Domino Dancing
by Nitrogen DS
Summary: When you look around you wonder, do you play to win or are you just a bad loser? Syndrome/Violet AU
1. Manhattan Skyline

**1**

"_So I read to myself, 'a chance of a lifetime to see new horizons.' On the front page, a black and white picture of Manhattan skyline..."_

- Manhattan Skyline by a-ha

Waves crashed against the beach as strong winds blew in from the North. Snow was falling lightly, but steadily, and the ground was already covered in a light layer. Even in the cold, people were still out and about, hustling around, trying to get to where they needed to be. Standing in the shadow of a towering skyscraper was a man, who could easily be disregarded, and dismissed as just another citizen carrying on with their life. He leaned up against the wall, newspaper in hand, scanning information about the stocks in between reading the comics section of the paper.

He shifted his weight, grumbling as he did so, and running his hand through his thick hair. He glanced at his watch and sighed before going back to reading articles. He closed the paper and gazed at the front page. It was all pointless junk about the world and such going on in it, and nothing about him. He grunted unhappily and folded the newspaper before tucking it under his arm. He pulled the collar of his coat up around his neck and filed into the crowds on the sidewalks. He ignored several people as they yelled at him for no particular reason at all, a few of them spitting viciously, teeth clenched as they cursed and growled.

One of them hit him in the shoulder as they walked by, and he glared, increasing his pace so that he could catch up with the offender. He began to walk next to the person, matching him footstep for footstep. This seemed to anger the already aggressive man even more so. The upset man stopped abruptly and grabbed the seemingly nonchalant businessman by the arm of his coat and pulled him towards one of the alleyways. "Listen, buster," he growled to the smaller man, his thick New York accent highly noticeable. "If you don't get your ugly face away from me, I'm going to kick your butt all the way to Timbuktu."

"Really, now, good sir, do you honestly think you'd be able to kick me all the way to Timbuktu? I think _someone's _exaggerating," the businessman said, his words dripping with venom. A wry smile appeared on his face as he looked up at the red-faced New Yorker.

"Oh, you're just asking for it, pal," the man said, cracking his knuckles and grabbing the other man by the collar of his shirt.

The businessman raised an eyebrow. "Well, since you seem to have your heart set on pounding me into a _pulp_, I don't think you can exactly call us '_pals_'. But, if that was a subliminal way of telling me that you want to put our differences aside and become friends, I'm all for it, _really_. I don't want to _hurt_ you, you see."

The New Yorker snarled. "Are you stupid or something?"

"No, I'm actually quite smart. Are _you _stupid or something?"

From outside the alley, pedestrians could hear a scuffle going on in the alleyway. The bystanders gathered to watch the fight, making bets between each other and whispering about possible causes of the fight. There was the sound of glass shattering, and noises that resembled gunshots. Eventually, only one walked out of the alleyway, his expensive coat torn, and his left eye swollen shut. There was cheering, but he just walked on, shoving his pistol into his shoulder holster and smiling victoriously. The crowd dissipated slowly, none of them even bothering to go to a phone and call for the police or an ambulance.

He walked a little more before coming to an apartment building. He pushed on the revolving door and walked up to the desk. A woman with tight lips and her hair in an even tighter bun was leaning over, reading a fashion magazine, not seeming to notice his arrival. He coughed slightly and reached down to tap on the little bell that was sitting on a pile of papers. It let out a little _ding _and the tight-lipped woman looked up and blinked before grabbing her glasses and putting them on. "Yes, what do you want?" she asked, tapping her nails against the desk surface.

"I lost my keys and I was hoping I could get them replaced. I live in apartment A1-13, my name is Buddy Pine, and here's my photo ID," he said, taking out his driver's license and setting it down in front of the front desk lady.

She didn't even bother to glance at the ID, she just opened her desk drawer and pulled out a set of keys marked '13', and handed them to him. He took them and put them in his pocket, then picked up his license and put it back in his wallet. She stared at his face, looking at his swollen eye, then her eyes drifted down to his torn clothing and she raised an eyebrow. "What happened to you, did you trip and fall over your shoelaces again?" she questioned, "no, no, that wouldn't explain those huge holes in your coat..."

"I got in a fight with some guy who was in a terrible mood. I won, of course," he bragged, placing his elbow on the table and leaning in towards her with a grin.

"That's a nice story, Mr. Pine, but we both know you'd never get in, let alone win a fight," she laughed, "if you don't want to tell me what happened, I'm fine with that."

He frowned. "Alright, don't believe me, but I really did get in a fight. See you later, Ms. Kimble."

"Have a nice evening, Mr. Pine."

Buddy walked over to the elevator and pushed the 'up' button more times than necessary. The doors opened, and he stepped it, looking over to the number pad and pressing the level 'A' button. He waited for a moment, then the doors opened again and he turned left, walking down the hallway towards apartment 13. He pulled out the keys and opened the door, taking in a deep breath and flipping a light switch to illuminate the dark apartment. He noticed the red light on his answering machine flickering on and off, and he pressed the play-back button. At first the message seemed crackled, but eventually he could hear someone's voice.

"_Hey, Buddy, this is Ramone, you need to get on the ground, quickly! They're after you again, and they've been waiting for you to get home!_" He didn't hesitate in squatting down on the ground, straining to hear the last of the message. "_If you can, meet me n' Monica at L'Argent tonight at around eight-ish, until then, keep as far away from your apartment as possible._"

"Oh, come on, L'Argent? How many times have I told him I'm sick and tired of eating there every single time we get together." He grunted, crawling on his hands and knees to the door. "Besides, I'm a wreck, and I can't even stay in my apartment long enough to change my clothes!"

He flattened himself as he heard gunshots and his main window breaking. He grabbed the doorknob and twisted it until the door opened, and then he scooted out, picking himself off the floor and rushing down to the lower level again. He ran out the revolving door, getting himself stuck in the rotation for a moment, and then he sprinted down the street, bumping into people and excusing himself along the way. He glanced at his watch as he ran, only two more hours until eight. He spotted his expensive sports car parked on the side of the road, and he quickly jumped in it, grabbing his keys and starting it up.

Buddy decided that he would just simply drive around until a certain time, then he'd turn around and head over to the restaurant. His heart was pounding and he grabbed the wheel of the grab shakily, pulling out into traffic and going as fast as the cars ahead of him would allow, which wasn't really fast at all. He turned down a less-crowded street and increased his speed, driving towards the seedier part of Manhattan, looking to get as far away from the Upper East Side as possible, at least until he was ready to go out to dinner. He heard rapidly fired gunshots behind him as a car sped around the corner, going much faster than he, with many people inside of it.

"Uh-oh," he whispered. He floored it, and went speeding down the street, passing cars and dodging bullets as he went. "I hate Mondays!"

He pulled out his gun and shot at the tires of the vehicle behind him, though this required taking his eyes off the road which made for some terribly sloppy driving. He swerved, trying to shoot and drive at the same time. He heard a loud 'pop' as one of the tires of the perusers' car was blown out. He laughed gleefully, but it was cut short as one of his tires was also shot out. He swore and tried to regain control of his spinning and careening car. He ran over a parking meter and a couple of fire hydrants, wincing as he heard another one of his tires pop. He put up his hands to shield his face as his car ran into the wall of a building.

Buddy blinked as the dust settled. The crash wasn't as bad as he'd thought it would be. He forced the door open and crawled out, taking a moment to access the damage. It was pretty bad, luckily, he had car insurance to cover him. "I'm having a hard time believing I just made it out of that alive and unharmed," he said to a random pedestrian, who ignored him and just kept walking down the street. "So, someone want to call the police? Those people back there we trying to kill me!" he said to no one in particular. None of them paid attention, they just walked by, carrying on with their lives. "Come on, I know this is New York, but at least one of you must have the time to call the police!"

When they didn't do anything, he grabbed his pistol out of the wreckage and fired several shots in the air. People scattered in different directions, a couple running towards the nearest phone boots, others ducking behind benches and trash cans, all of them screaming. Buddy smiled and put his pistol back in his shoulder holster, leaning up against the wall that he had smashed his automobile into. He looked down the street to see the car that had been chasing him had toppled over and landed on top of someone's parked car. There was no sign of anyone struggling out of the wreck, so naturally Buddy figured they must all be dead.

_Serves them right for trying to kill me, _he thought.

He turned his head, hearing sirens from a distance away. He smiled and sat down on a bench, legs crossed and head held high. He adjusted his torn coat and combed his hair back with his fingers, trying to look as proper as one could after having been in a fight, a car chase, and a wreck. He tried to open his swollen eye, but found he still could not. He decided he'd have to put some ice on it later; maybe he could ask for some when he got to L'Argent. The police rounded the corner, tires squealing as they came to a halt near the wreckage of the car that had been chasing Buddy. They jumped out, guns in their hands, and a few civilians ran up to them, and started pointing at Buddy. The police walked over and narrowed their eyes.

"Ah, you've finally arrived," Buddy greeted. "I hate to have had disturbed the peace by firing my pistol in the air like that, but I don't have a phone or any change with me at the moment, and no one would call the police for me, so I had to do something to get you here. The people in that vehicle over there were chasing me, and firing at me. They busted my front right tire, and sent my expensive new car careening into the wall of that office building. What are you going to do about this?"

"Hey, you're Buddy Pine! You're the CEO of that big thing – um – what's it called – er –," the police officer stammered, pointing at Buddy and trying to remember which company it was.

He just rolled his one good eye and snorted. "I know that, already, so what are you going to do about the hooligans who tried to kill me? And I think you're thinking of Syncorporated, that's my company, I own a line of stores, a chain of hotels and resorts, and an airline. The people who tried to kill me were from Arrival Hotel."

"Wait, is that 'a rival', or 'arrival'?" asked one of the officers.

"Both, but it's spelled A-R-R-I-V-A-L," Buddy said, brushing a bit of dust off his coat. "I'm sure you've heard of them, they're the ones with terrible customer service, lousy rooms, and gift shops with tacky items like snowglobes and action figures of their ever-so-narcissistic founder and owner, Celice Marley. If you want someplace good to stay, stay at Pine Hotel, we have convenient locations all across the United States, and several foreign countries. Unfortunately, the nitwits at Arrival built hotels across the street from every single one of mine, but pay no attention to that, the Pine hotels are much better, and they cost less than those at Arrival."

"This guy's a walking billboard," one of the officers whispered to his partner as Buddy continued on about how his chain of hotels was superior to any other. "Sir, thanks for telling us about which hotels are and aren't good, but we need to know some more about these people who tried to kill you."

"They were Celice's minions, I'll tell you that much," he replied, "you should probably go and arrest her for attempted murder or whatever. I really have to be going, a colleague of mine wants to meet me at a really expensive restaurant that I'm sick and tired of eating at, and I really can't be late. I'm just going to go over there and flag down a taxi, if you need more information on those lousy crooks, call me, here's my card."

Buddy handed the officers his business card, and then walked down the street a ways so that he could get a cab. He sighed loudly as he walked, thinking about how hectic his life was, and how he'd give anything just to get away from it. He had many dreams he'd like to fulfill, and one of them in particular was the one where he'd finally get revenge on a certain someone who'd made his life a living hell. That certain someone was Mr. Incredible, and Buddy was going to _kill _him.

--

Violet brushed her hair to the side and sat down in the chair opposite of the one that an interviewer, smiling politely as she did. He looked particularly frazzled and bothered, which made her nervous. If he was worn out like that, she might easily mess up everything, and she wouldn't get the job she was seeking. She pulled out her resume and pushed it onto the table, letting the interviewer pick it up to look at it.

"So, you have no prior experience in this field, I see," the interviewer grumbled as he flipped through the pages casually, stopping once in a while to look at Violet with disdain.

"This is my first full time job, so yeah, I really haven't done much else except work as a waitress and as a ticket taker at the Metroville Millennium Movie Theater," she said with a nervous chuckle. She really wanted this job, but with the interviewer being so under the weather, she was almost sure she wouldn't get it. She hadn't come to New York just be sent home, she was determined. If she couldn't get a job at Syncorporated, she'd simply go someplace else.

"What makes you think you're right for this job? What makes you think you should be a receptionist here at the headquarters?" the interviewer asked in a bored voice, droning through the required questions as though it was tedious and unpleasant work.

Violet thought for a minute. "Well, I suppose I'm good at taking phone calls and typing stuff, I do it all the time at home and at the library," she said confidently.

"Alright, look, even though you're not the most experienced or qualified person in the world, I'm just dying to get out of here and go home, so you know what I'm going to do? I'm going to give you the job, just keep in mind that if you mess up, the 'big boss' will have your head," he muttered, reaching out to shake her hand. She grabbed it eagerly and shook it.

"You won't regret this!"

"Just shut up while I get out a contract," he spat. "I can always change my mind anytime before you've signed it."

Violet suddenly remembered something her father had told her to ask. "Does this job have health benefits?"

"Ha-ha! No."

"Oh. Well, I suppose that's alright," she said, shrinking back into her chair. "I can deal with that, as long as I can have the job."

The interviewer pushed the contract towards Violet, offering her a pen as well. She grabbed it and signed and initialed in the appropriate spots as fast as she could. "Well, you're in, you start next Monday, good luck with that," the interviewer mumbled. "Oh, and give me back my pen, you were about to leave with it."

"Oh, I'm so sorry about that, it's just that I'm really excited to work here and it's been my dream and – um – yeah! Here's your pen," Violet said excitedly, nearly throwing the pen at the interviewer's face before rushing out of the office in a hurry. She rushed to the elevator, punched the ground level button and stood, tapping her foot. When she got to the lobby, she ran to a pay phone, nearly pushing down several people who were leaving for the day. She fumbled through her purse to find a quarter and put it in the slot, quickly dialing her parent's home phone.

"Hello?" came a deep voice.

"Dad? It's Violet, here! Guess what!"

There was a pause before reply. "You finally found a boyfriend?"

"No, no, I got the job I wanted!" she said with a laugh.

"That's great, honey, what was the job again?"

"Receptionist at the Syncorporated Headquarters in NYC, of course, I told you a couple days ago. You've been really forgetful recently. Are you alright?"

There was a sigh. "I'm fine, Vi, I've just been a little under the weather recently."

"Oh, that's too bad, well, I have to go now, I've got to get back to my roommate's apartment. G'bye!"

She hung up the phone and smiled to herself before walking out of the building in a proud manner. She didn't notice people rolling their eyes at her, but even if she had seen, she wouldn't have cared. All that mattered is that she had achieved her current goal, and that made her happy about her life and herself. She would do her best on the job, and rung by rung she'd climb the corporate ladder until she was at the top! Or at least, near the top.

"Watch it, lady!" someone snorted, pushing her to the side.

"Sorry, sorry, totally my fault," Violet apologized, walking to the curb so that she could call for a taxi. Unfortunately, none of them would stop for her. Finally, she decided to try the 'reveal a little leg' trick, that she'd seen in several movies. She got honks from creeps, but not one single taxi stopped. She sighed and began walking in the direction of the nearest subway. She walked down the stairs past the crowd of people who had just got off the training. _I never knew New York was this busy! _She was forced up against the side railing as the crowd just kept coming.

She made it to the bottom of the stairs and purchased a ticket. It was much colder underground than it had been above ground, which was saying something because it was cold enough to snow out there, so she pulled her jacket around her shoulders tightly. She waited around for her train to come, reading a couple pages of a magazine she'd found on the ground. Her black hair fell over one eye again, and this time she let it stay there. She looked up as the train she wanted to ride on pulled into the station, and struggled to get on as a new crowd of people pushed and shoved to get into the car. She scrambled to get a good seat, but all of them were taken before she knew it. The only place left was a part of the seat where the fabric had been torn, and trash was littered around. She sat down there and crossed her arms across her chest, looking down at the ground and reading the wrappers of assorted products.

"I didn't know that one had so much sugar in it," she mumbled to herself. She pulled out a piece of paper in her pocket. "Alright, I show up for work at six next Monday, they'll give me a job orientation, and at nine everyone else arrives, and hopefully I'll know what to do. I hope I don't blow this."

Eventually the train came to a halt at her stop and she jumped to get off, once again being pushed by the crowd of rush hour men and women trying to get home. She jogged up the stairs and started walking. Her roommate's place was only a couple blocks away from the subway stop she had come to, so she wouldn't have to walk that far. Unfortunately, it was sort of a 'bad part of town'. Not the worst, but not the best either. Snow had started to fall again and her teeth chattered. She knew she should have worn something heavier than what she had put on. _That's what I get for not paying attention to the weather report. _

Eventually she came across the apartment building and walked in, heading directly up to the second floor, and scanning the numbers on the doors until she came to the one she was staying in. She used her key to get in and looked around, grimacing at the amount of trash and old food there was on the floor. Her roommate was sitting on what looked to be a brand new couch, surprisingly, eating out of a tub of frozen yogurt and watching television.

"Where'd you get that, Mimi?" Violet asked quietly, taking off her jacket and hanging it up in the small closet.

"Buy n' Large," her roommate rasped, taking another big bite of the yogurt, "they were having a sale on couches, and I got us one."

"Where'd you get the money? You told me you were flat broke," Violet said, suspiciously eying her somewhat overweight roommate as she ate.

Mimi sniffed and wiped her nose with her sleeve. "My old uncle died, I got some inheritance, though it wasn't much. It was enough to get a couch, though, and a couple other things, like this new television. Sit down, would you like some frozen yogurt?"

"No thank you, I'm going out to eat later to celebrate getting a new job. Say, can I borrow some of that money? I really want to treat myself," Violet asked, keeping her voice as sweet and polite-sounding as possible.

"Sure thing, kid, it's all in the jar on the counter, knock yourself out," Mimi said, taking yet another large bite of frozen yogurt. "In return, could you do me a tiny favor?"

"Of course, Mimi, what is it?"

"On your way home, stop by the drug store and pick me up some of those tablets that help with cold symptoms, I think I'm coming down with something, and I've got a nasty headache, so some aspirin or something would be nice, too," Mimi rambled, continuing to drone on and on about feeling ill long after Violet had stopped listening.

"Alright, I'm going to go change and look in the phone book for some good place to eat," she told her roommate, despite the fact that Mimi was still talking. Violet put on some heavier clothing to keep her warm, and pulled out the phone book from inside the drawer. She counted the money she had got out of Mimi's jar quickly, and found she had enough to go to some place very fancy. She would finally have herself a great meal instead of having to eat fast food and frozen dinners. She jotted down several places so that she could call for a reservation. She dialed them one by one, only to be rejected time after time. The last restaurant she had on her list was L'Argent. _If their name is 'money', I'm guessing the food there is super expensive, _Violet thought.

She dialed the number and requested a table, and was surprised to find that there was actually room left. According to the man on the other end of the line, it was an oddly slow night, mostly because a new restaurant had opened just down the street from them and everyone wanted to go and try it. She hung up the phone, taking in a deep breath. "Mimi! Guess where I'm eating!" she yelled.

Mimi's response came after a few seconds of thought. "Dorsia?"

"No, better, L'Argent!"

"The rich folk's restaurant? How did you get a reservation there?"

"Luck, I guess."

"Great, well, you have fun with that. I'd come, but my soap is on, and it's a marathon," Mimi said, craning her neck to look at Violet as the young lady walked into the room. "Don't talk to strangers, and if some guys start hitting on you, hit on them, with your fist."

Violet nodded and smiled. "Alright, Mimi, I'll see you later!"

She grabbed a warmer coat and rushed out the door, running down the stairs, through the door and into the cold. She headed back down towards the subway, and went through the motions again, buying, boarding, getting off. She found herself in the glorious Upper East Side, the 'Silk Stocking District', the 'place where all the rich people live and thrive.'

"It's beautiful," she gasped. She'd never been there before, but she'd heard and read a lot about it. It was just as she had imagined, maybe better. She looked around, hoping this time she'd actually be able to flag a cab, and that the fare wouldn't be too much. She yelled and whistled for a taxi, using her thumb the old hitchiker's way. To her surprise and delight, one of them stopped, and she opened the door and got in.

"Take me to L'Argent, please."

"Sure thing, dollface," the driver said, adjusting his mirrors so that he could look at her and then pulling out into traffic again. Violet looked around in awe. This was the kind of life she wanted.

--

"And I'll have this unpronounceable dish right here," Buddy Pine said, handing the menu to the scantily clad waitress as he did. "Hey, Ramone, here's a novel idea: how about we eat at some other place next time? How about that new restaurant that just opened not too far from here? I've read reviews about it, they say it's a great place."

"Eh, we couldn't get reservations if we tried," Ramone replied, twirling a lock of his dark brown hair and taking a sip of red wine.

Buddy scowled. "Maybe you couldn't, but I'm sure I could. I can do anything."

"I've said it before, and I'll say it again: you have an ego as big as this city, Buddy Pine," Monica remarked, nibbling at her long, red polished nails.

"You going to eat all of those, or can I have one?" Buddy growled sarcastically, glancing at her as she chewed at her fingers. "Ramone, your girlfriend is a real snot. Oh, and you'd better restrain her before she bites off her own hands."

Monica glared at him and put her hands down in her lap. Ramone just took another sip of wine and rolled his eyes. Buddy picked up a roll, and broke it apart, chewing on one piece of it thoughtfully. "Thanks for warning me about those would-be assassins, by the way, I'd be in the morgue about now if not for you," he said to Ramone, "I swear, tomorrow, Arrival's headquarters goes up in flames. I'll bomb the place, I will bomb it!"

"Not so loud, hotshot, we're in a public place right now," Ramone warned, looking around nervously. "You can be psycho when we're alone, but not in the middle of the restaurant."

Monica sniffed, and wiped a dibble of champagne off of her lower lip. "You're a real loony, Buddy Pine," she commented.

"The place is practically empty, anyway, because they're all off eating _good _food," Buddy muttered.

"I happen to really enjoy eating here," Ramone said with a bit of a glare in Buddy's direction.

Buddy glared right back at him. "I used to enjoy it, until we started coming here every single time we got together. I'm going to get some new friends sometime, friends who aren't afraid to go out and eat something different for a change."

"All you ever do is complain, Buddy Pine."

Buddy looked furious. "For the last time, Monica, stop using my full name every single time you refer to me! I swear, I want to kill you sometimes, and if you keep this up, one of these days I might!"

"Hey, look over there, that chick's a real bombshell," Ramone said, pointing to a shy-looking black-haired young woman who walked nervously into the restaurant, waiting for the waiter to show her to her table. Buddy turned his head and observed before turning back and nodding.

"Yeah, she's pretty hot, I suppose," he said with a shrug.

"You should ask her out."

"No thank you."

"Come on, we could all go clubbing later on tonight, it'll be fun," Ramone insisted.

Buddy shook his head. "I'm not going clubbing on a Monday night, I have lots of work to do tomorrow."

"Have a little fun, Pine, it's your company, they can't fire you for missing a day."

"But I'll get behind on everything I have to do. I remember the time I caught a cold, and when I got back to the office, I had a stack of papers as tall as I am on my desk. It wasn't fun to go through all that, Ramone, I was ready to tear my hair out," he sighed.

"The least you can do is ask her! Come on, don't be chicken," Ramone continued persistently.

"Where would I take her to? And when?" Buddy asked.

Ramone looked up as the waitress arrived with their food, setting the platters down in front of them. "Well, you did want to try that new place down the street, right? Take her there this Friday."

"It'll be impossible to get a reservation there, especially on a Friday," Buddy informed him.

"You're just scared. You don't think she'll go out with you," Ramone teased.

Monica scowled at them both. "Just pick one way or another, if you keep arguing, your food is going to get cold."

"Fine, fine, I'll do it," Buddy said, exasperated, throwing his hands in the air.

"'Attaboy, Pine!" Ramone praised. "If you don't screw it up, you might have a girlfriend in your near future."

"If she's anything like Monica, I don't want her."

Buddy got up and pushed his chair in, walking gingerly towards the black-haired lady's table. "Um, excuse me," he coughed.

Violet looked up, startled. "Oh, hi! Are you a waiter? If you are I want --"

"No, no, no. You see, my friend the matchmaker over there wanted me to ask you out on a date," Buddy said, pointing to his table as Ramone gave a quick wave.

"Wow, really? I mean, really? You're a big time rich guy, why would you be interested in me?"

"What do you mean by that? You've got to have some big amount of cash on you, too, or you wouldn't be eating at a place that means '_money_' in French," Buddy interrupted, shifting his weight from leg to leg as he stood uncomfortably.

"Oh, never mind about that, I'd love to go out on a date! Um, where and when exactly?" Violet asked, getting out a notepad and a pencil.

"How about this Friday at eight-ish? Meet me outside that new restaurant – um – what's it called – Pier's or something. We'll eat there, it'll be nice to eat someplace other than this trashhole for once," Buddy responded.

"Alright! By the way, my name is Violet Parr, what's yours?"

"Buddy Pine."

"Really?! Oh my goodness, I'm going to start working for you next Monday!"

Buddy raised an eyebrow. "What an amazing coincidence! I'm assuming you're the new human resources director, no?"

"Well, actually, no, I'm the receptionist," she said, blushing.

"Oh. Uh, well, that's fine, too. I suppose I'll see you on Friday, then," Buddy coughed, beginning to think twice about asking the young lady out. _Parr? That's Incredible's alter-ego last name. Ah, well, just another coincidence, I'm sure._

He had no idea how wrong he was.

**A/N: **_If you're a bit confused about what is going on, I'll explain it. In this story, most of the events of the movie never happened, save for the Golden Age part. Buddy (Syndrome) noticed too many fallibilities in his Operation Kronos plan, and therefore never went about carrying it out, and instead decided to occupy his time with being a CEO of a large company in New York. Superheroes are still banned in America, and Buddy Pine still wants to get his revenge on Mr. Incredible for wronging him when he was a child. Also, I haven't abandoned my other Synlet fic, I'm just a little stuck on it, so I'm working on this in the meantime. I'll be switching back and forth between writing the two._


	2. Running On Ice

**2**

"_I'm a cosmopolitan sophisticate of culture and intelligence. The culmination of technology and civilized experience..."_

- Running On Ice by Billy Joel

Blueprints were scattered across an otherwise sleek and clean looking desk. Each of them had detailed drawings of some weapon or other random item. Draped over the desk chair was a black spandex suit, with a large white 'S' on the front and back. Nearby, on the floor, was a cape, black on one side, blue on the other. High up on a shelf in a glass case was a pair of white boots and white gauntlets, both sleek and new looking. Buddy Pine entered his bedroom, sighing as he observed the mess he had made the night before. He picked a few things up off the floor and put them in their proper places. He grabbed his list of things to do off of his desk and squinted, trying to read his own sloppy handwriting in the dim light.

"Work on utility gauntlets," he muttered to himself, reading the paper out loud.

He remembered that the zero-point energy part he had installed a few months ago was on the blink, and he'd need to rewire a few internal components to get it working properly. He had been slacking off on working on his revenge plot, more caught up in running a huge business than anything. Having a social life was hindering him from getting anything done, and that displeased him. He turned up the light in the room, grabbed his gauntlets from their protective case, and sat down on the satin sheets of his large bed. He grabbed a screwdriver from by his pillow and opened up the left gauntlet, noticing the problem immediately.

The wires inside were not spliced together properly, most likely because he had put them together in the wee hours of the morning, after not sleeping a wink. He must have lost concentration and wound up doing everything all wrong. He murmured angrily and got up to get something to drink from his fridge. He found a half bottle of soda pop he had mixed with vodka, and took it out, pouring a good amount of the contents into a glass before walking back to his bedroom, beverage in hand. He took his pliers out of the toolbox under his bed and began to repair the electronic mess. After a while of working, he sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve, rolling over to grab his drink off of his night stand and take a sip.

He then rolled onto his stomach and spliced the last of the wires together in the left gauntlet. He then pulled the right one closer to himself and opened it up, finding himself being greeted by a tangle of sparking wires and battery acid leaking all over his hands. He grimaced and grabbed the box of tissues that was sitting by his bed in an attempt to mop up the acid before it damaged something. He cursed and started to work on repairing everything in side of it. He couldn't figure out how the things had got so damaged when all they'd really ever done is sit on his top shelf. He hoped to whatever higher power there may be that they didn't give out when he really needed them the most.

Buddy worked long into the night, his eyes only growing droopier as the minutes ticked by. Eventually, he dozed off without even having changed into his night clothes. He snored lightly, his cheek pressed against his arm. He awoke what seemed like seconds later after falling asleep, to the sound of his alarm clock radio playing music from a local station. He sleepily looked around, wiping crust out of his eyes as he came to his senses. He carefully put away his utility gauntlets in their cases before sluggishly dragging himself to the bathroom so that he could take a cold shower, and hopefully wake himself up. He turned on the water and tossed off the clothing he had worn since the day before. He then staggered into the shower, nearly jumping back as the cold spray hit his skin. He washed himself carefully, using multiple kinds of shampoo and body wash.

He believed in keeping himself neat and clean as to make a good impression to everyone at his business, and even everyone on the street. He walked out of the shower and grabbed his blow dryer, drying out his semi-long red hair before combing it back into a professional, yet stylish businessman-type hairstyle. He grabbed his razor and shaving cream and began to shave his face, trying his best not to cut himself as he had the other day when he had proceeded about the job too hastily. He finished and applied aftershave before drying the rest of his body off with his towel and heading to the closet to pick out a suit to wear that day. He chose a navy blue one, and his black-and-white Syncorporated tie to go along with it. He adjusted everything to make sure he looked his best, and pranced back and forth in front of the mirror to check himself. Satisfied with the way he looked, he went into his kitchen and put some coffee on, and forced a couple of slices of bread into the toaster.

There really wasn't much time to have anything else to eat. He passed by the large window in his apartment as he waited for his breakfast to complete itself. He stopped abruptly and turned his head, noticing that his window was still broken, and pieces of glass were still all over the floor. He smacked himself on the forehead and grabbed his phone, angrily dialing the building's repair service number. It rung for a while before a tired-sounding voice answered:

"Hello, this is Manson Apartment Complex Repair Services, how may I help you so _early _on this _wonderful_ morning?"

Buddy grabbed his toast as it popped out of the slots on the toaster. "My big window is broken, and I need you to fix it." He said between bites.

"Alright, tell us which apartment you live in and we'll send someone to fix it for you."

"I live on level A1, in apartment 13," Buddy said, holding the phone under his chin as he poured himself a cup of coffee. "I need it fixed as soon as possible, please, it's really drafty in here, what with it being winter and all. There's like two inches of snow on my carpet."

"Thank you for the weather report. We'll have our team come fix it sometime today."

"Alright then, goodbye."

"Goodbye."

He hung up the phone and went back to eating his minuscule breakfast while listening to the news on the radio. Most of it consisted of dull celebrity gossip, and he turned it off before he could find out which famous person was gay or dead. He checked his watch and saw that he still had plenty of time to get to his office. He grabbed his coat out of the closet and walked out the door. He paused and backed up, grabbing his briefcase before exiting again. He took the stairs down instead of the elevator, and briefly greeted Ms. Kimble before going through the revolving does and onto the sidewalk, casually sliding himself into the flow of people.

Since he had wrecked his sports car, and it hadn't yet been fixed, he'd have to use the subway. It wasn't something he particularly enjoyed doing, it was too crowded and too filthy for his taste. He rushed down the stairs, almost slipping on a patch of ice as he did. Luckily, he had quick reflexes to save him from ending up with a broken leg. He pushed his way through a crowd to get himself a ticket, casting angry glances at people who bumped into him. He slunk into the subway train, getting himself the best seat he could find, free of trash and not near to any particularly odd people, save for the man with the afro who was sitting across from him listening to his Stereobelt.

Buddy was amused by the man's odd hairstyle, he could somehow picture himself in something similar. Of course, what he pictured his hair looking like wasn't exactly a true-to-book afro, in fact he pictured it to look more like flames. He kept himself occupied for the rest of the train ride by thinking of different hairstyles for himself. In the end, the best one was the first one. Maybe one day, after he grew bored of his career as a successful business owner, he'd his typical haircut around. In fact, maybe it would fit in with his vengeance plans. Many villains he'd heard of had some little quirky detail that made them stand out from the others, and maybe his quirk could be an odd hairstyle.

"Move it, you yuppie," came an annoyed grunt from a young man, who couldn't have been older than sixteen.

This snapped Buddy out of his daydreaming state, and he grunted as he got off at his stop, kicking people in the shins to get them to move a little bit faster. He cut through the crowd up the stairs and then proceeded in walking as dignified as possible, so no one would think lesser of him despite the fact that he had just emerged from the underground slums of the subway station. He marched up to his company headquarters and pushed through the doors, straightening his tie and jacket and casually strolling to the elevator. He was stopped mid-step as a seductive, familiar voice greeted him.

"Hello, boss."

He turned around to see his personal assistant, Carmina del Sol, who preferred to be known by her nickname, Mirage. Her long platinum blond hair flowed left and right as she sashayed up to him, catlike green eyes glowing. Buddy stammered as he searched for the right words to say in greeting.

"Um, ah – hello, Mirage, lovely weather, nice morning, let's get to work!" he exclaimed in a jumbled, rushed sentence.

She smiled and followed him into the elevator. They stood in silence as the elevator rang to signal the climb and passing of each floor. They eventually reached the top level, and got off. The entire top level was Buddy Pine's luxurious office. Every wall of it was made out of glass, as was the roof, so that he could see the city and the sky as he worked. It kept him calm and stress-free. He had a modern-looking fountain placed over by a few tropical potted plants. His desk was in the middle of the floor, it was shaped like a crescent moon and had a keyboard on top of it. To both sides were cabinets to store important papers in.

He passed by the place where any papers that he had to review and sign were placed in a small wire basket. He picked them up and started looking over them as he walked towards his desk. He sat down and pressed a button on his keyboard. In front of him a holographic screen appeared, the lights in the room dimmed, and the glass on the windows were covered by steel panels. Up on the screen was a blinking message asking for his password. He paused for a second before entering the word 'skyline', on the screen. It brought up a list of all sorts of file folders for his company, including finances, reports, and all sorts of corporate what-not.

"Mirage, do you mind getting me some water, I'm kind of thirsty," he murmured.

As soon as she left the room he exited out of the Syncorporated files and it brought him back to the password screen. This time he typed 'kronos', and it top secret files appeared on the screen. He had long scrapped his Operation Kronos plan, but he had saved a few details that may come in handy for his next plot on his computer. He scrolled through the lists of superheroes and their profiles until he came to that of Mr. Incredible. He pressed 'enter' and it displayed every last bit of information he had gathered on both the superhero and his alter-ego.

"Sir?"

Buddy looked startled as he whirled around to see Mirage standing there with a cup of water in hand, looking up at the large screen. "Uh – er – yes, Mirage?" he stammered.

Mirage turned her gaze towards him. "What is this? It seems to be information on a Mr. Incredible fellow, is he a business partner?" she questioned, setting the water down on his desk.

"You could say that, I guess," Buddy coughed.

There was a silence as they both stared at each other.

"I have to confess that I've been watching you do this every single time you send me out for water," she sighed. "Don't be mad at me, I'm just a bit curious. What are you up to?"

_Should I tell her? She might be able to help me! Then again, she might call the police or something and betray me. Wow, this is quite a conundrum. Oh, heck, what's the worst Mirage can do?_

"I'm trying to get revenge on someone who wronged me a long time ago," he blurted out.

Mirage raised an eyebrow. "Why were you trying to hide this from me?"

"I don't know, I thought you'd go to the authorities, I guess," Buddy muttered. "I was scared you were going to betray me just like – just like Mr. Incredible."

"I wouldn't, ever," she assured him, raising one hand as though she were taking an oath. "Your secret is safe with me, sir."

Buddy sighed with relief. "Thank you," he said, shakily taking a sip of the water she'd brought him. "If word of this got out, I'd be ruined."

"Care to tell me more about this Mr. Incredible fellow?"

"Well, it all started back in Municiburg where I grew up..."

He went on to elaborate as Mirage stood, feeling every bit of pain in his voice echo in her heart. She hadn't know he'd been so hurt long ago. At the end of his long-winded and possibly exaggerated story, she felt the want to embrace him and tell him that everything was going to be okay. He had every right to seek revenge for what that superhero had done to him so many years ago. Now Buddy Pine had an ally; he had Mirage, and she would follow him to the ends of the Earth. Or, at least he hoped. It all depended on how things went.

Mirage's eyes were teary as she stood there. "I had no idea, Mr. Pine," she whispered. "Don't worry, I'm on your side."

The look on Buddy's face was a mixture of surprise and pleasure as his lips twisted into a crooked smile. "That's good to hear, Mirage."

--

Violet woke up ecstatic. The day before she had got her dream job, or at least the springboard job to her dream job. On top of that, she had eaten at one of the best restaurants in the world, and her new _boss _had asked her out on a date. Granted, he hadn't looked too happy about the whole deal, but at least he _had_ asked. She pushed her covers off her body, but immediately wished she hadn't due to the fact that it was nearly freezing in her bedroom. She could hear Mimi snoring the next room, so loud she could have sworn it shook the apartment building.

She tiptoed into the kitchen and poured herself a bowl of cereal. She picked every last raisin out of the bowl before pouring in the milk. She had never really liked raisins. Unfortunately for her, Mimi loved them, and brought home only boxes of raisin bran from the store. Every morning Violet wanted to have a nice bowl of flaky cereal, she'd have to jump hurdles to get it. She sighed and grabbed a glass from the cabinet. It was slightly dirty on the inside, so she rinsed it out before filling it with orange juice from the pitcher inside the refrigerator.

She heard footsteps as Mimi lumbered out of her room, eyes drooping and hair frazzled. It would have scared Violet had she not been used to the sight. "Morning, Mimi," she greeted. "Can I get you anything to eat?"

"No thank you, I can get it myself, Vi, but it was sweet of you to offer." Mimi walked over to the Mr. Coffee and dumped a good measure of ground coffee beans into the filter.

Violet sat down at the breakfast nook and turned on the small television they had sitting on the counter. She flipped through channels until she came to something that looked interesting. It was a documentary on superheroes, and their accomplishments up until the point where they were banned. She munched on her raisin-less raisin bran and watched the program intently. Her father had been one of the more prominent superheroes back in what was known as the 'Golden Age.' She barely noticed Mimi had sat down next to her until the commercial.

"You interested in supers?" Mimi asked.

Violet brushed back a loose bit of hair from her face and took a bite of cereal. "I suppose you could say that."

"It's a shame they were banned all those years ago," Mimi sighed. "I had a friend whose mother was a superhero. After the banning, her mother went crazy, ran off one day, and my friend never heard from her again."

"That's terrible!" Violet exclaimed. "I think the government made a mistake banning the supers."

"Agreed," Mimi muttered.

After that, they ate their breakfast in silence, watching the documentary on television and making mental plans for the day. After it was over, Violet got up and set her dishes in the sink, running a bit of water so that they could soak in it. She walked into her room and began brushing her long, black hair. She had taken a shower the previous night so that she wouldn't have to bother with it that morning. She did her hair up in a tight bun, in an effort to make herself look more professional. She picked out an outfit from her closet, consisting of a long-sleeved white blouse, a purple vest, and black bell-bottomed jeans. After putting them on she looked at herself in the mirror. She thought she looked great, though perhaps she could loose a bit of weight around the derrière. Unfortunately, she was all dressed up with no where to go. She wasn't starting work until next week. She sighed and sat down on the edge of her bed.

She let out a long and heavy sigh. Perhaps she could pay a visit to her family who lived back in Metroville? She wasn't sure she could afford the bus ticket there, though. She wasn't even sure she _wanted _to ride the bus to Metroville. There would be strangers of all sorts, and who knew what could happen? Perhaps she was being a bit too paranoid, but it was always better to be safe than sorry. She stood up and grabbed her jacket from where it was laying on the floor and put it on. She said a quick 'goodbye' to Mimi and walked out the door.

She stepped out onto the crunchy snow that covered the sidewalk. It would have been nice if someone had cleared it off, but she could deal with walking on the slippery surface. As she walked she wondered what she was going to do that day. Typically she'd either job hunt or stay home and watch television with Mimi. Today seemed different, though, today she needed some excitement in her life. Last night's excitement had left her wanting more. She pulled her jacket closer to her body as fresh snow began to fall.

Violet decided she wasn't going to take transportation anywhere. After all, she didn't even know where she was going. She kept walking down the street, hoping to come across something interesting. After a long while, she came into a section of the city with art galleries left and right. She shrugged and walked inside one of them, looking around at the quirky, abstract paintings hanging on the walls. As far as she could see there was no one around. All of the sudden she heard yelling coming from behind closed doors. Moments later, a man walked out in a huff, carrying a painting down by his side. He brushed his way past Violet, cursing under his breath.

"Excuse me, sir!" Violet called out, following him.

The man barely bothered to look at her. "What do you want, Sunshine?"

"I know it's probably none of my business, but why did you come out of there looking so – angry?"

She knew she was horrible at striking up conversations with strangers, or anyone for that matter.

"The hippie bitch who runs that place back there promised me a certain sum of bread for one of my paintings, but now she won't take it! It's a major bummer, I haven't been able to sell any of my work on the art scene for weeks!" the man growled.

Violet looked confused for a moment. "Oh, that's – terrible, mister – er... I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name –"

"I didn't throw it, chicky. But it's Hawkins, Ramone Hawkins."

"I'm Violet," she murmured. "You kind of look familiar..."

"Unless you hang around the jet set side of town, I probably haven't seen you," Ramone said.

"I was there last night – hey, weren't you with Buddy Pine?" Violet asked.

Ramone paused before replying. "Yes, I was, actually. Aren't you the bunny I set him up with?"

"Yes, I am!"

"Coolio, Vi. Do you mind if I call you 'Vi'?"

"Oh, no, I don't. Everyone calls me that, anyway," Violet replied. "So if you're one of those rich people, what are you doing _here_?"

Ramone stopped walking so that he could put his coat on. "I'm not as sophisticated as those Upper East Side cats think I am," he replied. "I'm more of an _artist_ than anything. Of course, I dabble in the whole big-business gig, but I feel more at home down in the artsy partsies of NYC."

Violet nodded every once in a while to assure him that she was listening as he began to ramble on about the ups and downs of his life as both an artist and a businessman. After a few minutes of walking and talking, she decided to ask a question. "How do you know Buddy Pine?"

"Oh, Buddy? We're old high school pals," Ramone responded. "He's a bit of an oddball... I guess you'd call him eccentric or something."

"Is he?"

Ramone shrugged slightly, taking a moment to look at the time on his watch. "Yeah, he's pretty loony at times. He's got this nasty temper, too. He's a real hothead, if you catch my drift."

Violet looked worried. "He's not – violent or anything, is he?"

"Violent? Well, he threatens a lot, but trust me, he's all bark and no bite," Ramone assured her.

Violet was quite relieved at this news. She didn't want to go out on a date with a psycho, nor did she want to work for one. She could handle him if his threats were nothing but a bunch of tough talk. Neither of them spoke for a little while. They had wandered into an entirely different part of the city, and were attempting to get their bearings before continuing the conversation.

Ramone stopped to look at his watch again. "Oh, bummer, I've got to split. I've got this meeting that I'm going to miss if I don't zip. See ya, Sunshine!"

Violet waved to him as he walked away. She kind of liked him. He seemed like the kind of person one would want to hang around and talk to. Maybe she'd meet up again with him someday. According to her watch, it was lunchtime. She sniffed the air and caught the scent of burgers cooking. She followed her nose until she came to the source: a small hole-in-the-wall diner. She walked inside and sat herself down at a table. Before too long a waitress walked up, carrying a menu and setting it down in front of her.

"What can I get you to drink?" the waitress mumbled, taking the scrunchy out of her red hair only to put it back in seconds later. She took out a pad and pencil from her pouch pocket and prepared to write.

Violet bit her lower lip as she scanned the menu. "I'll just have water – with a lemon."

The waitress scribbled the order down on the menu before shoving it back into her waist pouch. "I'll be back in a moment."

Violet looked up as the waitress was walking away. The woman looked familiar, almost exactly like --

"Kari!"

The waitress turned around, looking quite surprised. "Vi, is that you?"

Violet nodded rapidly and stood up to give her old best friend a hug. "Yes, it is! What are you doing here? I thought you went to Florida to live with your dad!"

Kari embraced Violet and smiled. "I did, but you know him – the biggest drunk in the world, that's what he was. Eventually, I got fed up with it and bought a bus ticked here. So, what brings you to Sin City?"

"Job opportunities. I'm starting work as the receptionist at Syncorporated's headquarters on Monday!" Violet announced.

"That's great!" Kari exclaimed. "I wish I could get a job at one of those huge corporations, but I don't think I have what it takes."

"Hey, pussycat, cut the clamor and take the orders," came a gruff voice from behind the counter.

Violet turned her head and saw a large, heavyset man, grease all over his apron. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, possibly older. His hair was done in a buzz cut manner. He looked generally threatening. Kari sighed loudly and walked towards the kitchen.

"'Kay, Gary," she murmured.

Violet sat back down. In the background she could hear the sounds of the Bee Gees' song Jive Talkin' on the radio. She hummed along to the tune and played around with the salt shakers on the table. Before too long, Kari returned with Violet's drink in hand. She also set down a paper with a phone number on it.

"Call me later, okay?" Kari said. "What would you like to eat?"

Violet nodded. "Sure," she responded. "I'd like – er – the 'Red Plate Special'..."

"Good choice. That's the one that goes down the easiest," Kari giggled. "I'll have it back right quick."

After Kari left, Violet stared out the dusty window at the snow falling. It was nice to see her old friend again. Maybe when she got higher up the ladder at Syncorporated she could recommend Kari for a job there. Maybe dating her future boss could have its advantages. She really didn't want to take advantage of him or anything, but she didn't want Kari to be stuck as a waitress in a run-down diner for all eternity, either.

She looked around, bored. She spotted a buisness magazine laying in the seat opposite of her. She picked it up and started flipping through it as she waited for her food to arrive. It was entertaining enough, though magazines weren't her normal reading material. She spotted an article about Buddy Pine on the seventh page. It was rather short, and simply stated things about his incredible success. It included an interview that had interesting information in it, and very flattering photos of the businessman himself. He looked amazing, and in the interview he seemed very down-to-earth and non-narcissistic, just the way Violet wanted him to be.

She could hardly wait to see him again.

**A/N: **_I'm terribly sorry it took me forever to get this up, I've been quite busy with things recently. Anyhow -- er -- yes, please review, I really appreciate feedback!_


	3. Friend Or Foe?

**3**

"_I want those who get to know me to become admirers or my enemies."_

- Friend Or Foe by Adam & The Ants

It was Friday, always a busy day no matter where you worked. It was especially busy for Syncorporated, considering the fact that they were ranked the third largest company in the world earlier that week. No one was leaving early that day. Buddy Pine was especially stressed about the whole thing, and was ready to tear his hair out by closing. He had been ranting and monologuing about things that were going wrong for almost an hour already. If anything else happened that day, heads were going to roll, perhaps literally. Nothing was considered too extreme in his book. He shoved his papers into file cabinets and locked them before marching angrily out of his office, slamming the door behind him.

Mirage was trying to catch up with him as he tromped towards the elevator. He stepped inside and pressed the first-floor button multiple times. He didn't bother to hold the doors open for her, and they closed in front of her face. She could hardly believe he had left her behind on purpose, but considering the amount of chaos that day, she couldn't blame him for being upset. Outside, the wind was blowing so loudly that everyone could have sworn a tornado was heading in their direction. The snow was blinding, and it was near impossible to see more than three feet ahead of oneself.

Buddy peeked out the front door, glaring as he noticed how awful the weather was outside. With his luck, he'd be trapped inside the building due to hazardous conditions or something like that. He went through the door, but came back inside moments later, looking windblown and cold. Mirage had finally made it down to the lower level, and she too observed the weather through the window. The two exchanged weary glances just as the power decided to cut itself off. What's worse was that the generator in the basement didn't seem to want to turn the power back _on_.

"Oh, brilliant," Buddy growled. "The serviceman never did come to fix it, did he?"

"Fix what?" asked Mirage, rubbing her hand against the window to clear the fog her breath had made on it.

"The generator. If you haven't noticed, we're sitting here in the dark."

"He was supposed to come yesterday, but I recall him phoning to say he was delayed or something," Mirage shrugged, sitting down in front of the window and trying to write notes in her writing pad using the light from outside to illuminate the paper.

"I have to be somewhere," Buddy sniffed. "Ramone hooked me up with this girl..."

Mirage looked up. "You're still hanging around that guy?"

"Yes," he responded. "Why should you care?"

"I don't really, I was just asking," she sighed. "Good luck with your date tonight, sir."

Buddy murmured a quick "Thank you."

It soon became clear that the weather wasn't going to let up soon, and the generator wasn't about to turn itself on. They were accomplishing nothing sitting in the dark. Buddy glanced over at Mirage, who was still busily scribbling down notes on her pad. He pulled his coat closer to him and took in a deep breath. If he missed this set up date, it'd make him look bad. And he couldn't risk his reputation. For all he knew that girl, Violet, could be some sort of undercover reporter trying to get an inside scoop. Oh, but surely she'd understand his weather-induced delay. He took in a deep breath and pushed the door, only to find that it wouldn't open.

"What the hell?" he spat.

He pushed it again, this time using all his weight to try and open the door. It was all to no avail, however, as the wind had decided it was going to use all its force to keep Buddy Pine inside the building. He swore and kicked the door angrily. Unfortunately, his kick cracked the glass and activated the alarm system. The building was filled with the blaring sound of the burglar alarm. Buddy Pine slowly turned to Mirage with a psychotic look in his eyes. His face was twitching, and she could see that he couldn't take much more of this.

"Here, let me help you with that door," she offered.

"You do that." His eye twitched again.

She switched off the alarm and began to strain against the door. Buddy Pine walked over and gave her some help. This time, the door opened, perhaps a little too easily. They both fell flat on their faces, letting out yelps of surprise and pain. They were greeted by the blare of sirens and police gathering around them. Buddy was grabbed by the arm and hoisted to his feet. Before he could protest, he found himself face down on the hood of a police car, his arms being cuffed behind his back. He squirmed and struggled, demanding answers and threatening to sue.

"You have the right to remain silent," began the officer, reading off the list of rights, "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."

"Let me go! I'm Buddy Pine, you hear me? Buddy freakin' Pine!"

The policeman went on, "You have the right to speak to an attorney, and to have an attorney present during any questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be provided for you at government expense."

"I haven't done anything wrong, officer! This is _my _building!" Buddy whined. "This is all just a really big misunderstanding."

"That's what they all say," the officer snorted.

--

Violet had been waiting outside the restaurant for almost an hour. She had never felt so cold in her entire life. Her fingers were so frozen that she could hardly move them. At last she decided she'd just wait in the lobby inside. She wondered why Mr. Pine was so late. Surely he wouldn't have forgotten their date. Maybe something was just keeping him. Probably some issue at the company or something. Buddy Pine was a very busy man. Perhaps too busy to bother going on a date with a lowly receptionist. She let out a long sigh and sat down on one of the padded benches. She'd wait another thirty minutes, no longer. After that, she'd just give up and go home. There was no sign of anyone familiar, and the maître d' was giving her strange looks. She'd never felt so uncomfortable in her life.

Minutes passed by with still no sign of Buddy Pine. She rested her head on her hand and sighed impatiently. She felt as though she was the center of everyone's attention. Every time someone entered the restaurant, she could have sworn they glanced at her disdainfully. Was she not dressed properly? Maybe it was painstakingly obvious that she didn't even come close to being as rich as any of the men and women who were dining there. Violet shut her eyes to keep from having to see them glaring at her like that, whether it was all in her head or not.

Maybe she dozed off, or maybe whilst lost in thought she lost track of time, but when she opened her eyes and glanced at her watch, twenty more minutes had past. One of the waiters was standing over her, checking to see if she was dead or alive. She screamed and cringed when she saw him, frightening him at the same time. He backed up into some customers, who were rather upset over being knocked over by the startled waiter.

"I'm so sorry!" Violet gasped, standing up abruptly. "Oh, I'm so, so sorry!"

This was one of those times where she wished she could use her invisibility powers in public. She wished that a hole would appear beneath her and swallow her up. She ran of the restaurant, practically in tears. Not looking where she was going, and blinded by her own hot tears, she collided with someone traveling in her direction, knocking them to the ground. They let out a curse and an exclamation of pain. Violet could take no more embarrassment, and without thinking turned herself invisible. After doing this she noticed, much to her chagrin, that the person she had knocked over was none other than Buddy Pine himself.

_Oh, please, no. Why did it have to be _him?, she thought, dismayed.

"Could my day get any worse? No, forget I said that, I might jinx something," Buddy groaned. He brushed himself off, and stood up shakily. He had turned his head for _one _second and had been knocked over by some unthoughtful pedestrian. And they hadn't even stopped to see if he was alright, the nerve. "And _look at this_, I'm covered in snow, too! Gah!"

Violet didn't quite know what to do. If she materialized in front of him, he'd know that she was a super. She rushed into the nearest alleyway and deactivated her powers. She took in a deep breath and examined herself in a metallic trash can lid, and walked out, trying to act like nothing had happened. She came up behind Buddy Pine, who was still murmuring angrily to himself.

"If I ever catch the person who did this, I'll shoot them until they're nothing more than a bloody, bullet-ridden, mangled corpse," he spat.

Well, that was certainly disturbing. Violet recalled Ramone saying that Buddy Pine was all bark, and no bite, though. Ramone had also told her that Buddy threatened a lot, too. Despite feeling a tad shaken by his dark, malice-filled growls, she approached him. Taking in a deep breath, she tapped him on the shoulder.

"What do you want?" Buddy yelled, whirling around, his hands in the air.

Violet shrunk back, startled again by his tone. "Eep!"

"Oh, Miss Parr!" the red-haired man gulped. "I apologize for that, that was uncalled for. I've been having a terrible day, you see. One thing going wrong after another, you know how that is. It can really put a man on edge."

He continued to run-on, making excuse after excuse. Now Violet wasn't quite sure whether or not she wanted to have dinner with him. He seemed to be very stressed out, and very testy. Then again, this was a chance of a lifetime. How could she pass up having dinner with one of the most rich and successful men in the entire country, if not the entire world? No, she simply couldn't pass it up. If she was ever going to get ahead in life, she'd have to put aside any doubts she had.

"It's alright, Mr. Pine," Violet said calmly. "I understand how it is. I've had bad days myself."

"Right, then. Let's have dinner!" exclaimed Buddy. "And again, I really apologize for my rude behavior. You won't tell anyone about that, will you? I have an image to maintain, you know. I swear, it's tough being 'Mr. Perfect Pine' all the time. People expect so much out of me. Really, though, _don't_ speak of this. Ever." His voice took on a darker, more threatening tone towards the end of his speech.

Once again, Violet found herself being put off by her boss-to-be's demeanor. He was either psychotic, or very stressed out and serious about not having his name soiled. It was proving to be extremely difficult to tell which was true. She followed him into Pier's, trying to avoid the gaze of the waiter whom she had startled earlier. Buddy Pine approached the maître d' about the reservation he had made. The man seemed more than happy to seat the famous Mr. Pine, and before Violet knew it they were facing each other at a table, reading their menus.

"You know, usually I make it a priority of mine not to date employees," Buddy murmured after a few minutes of awkward silence, "But since you're not quite working for me yet, I'm making an exception."

Violet looked up at him. "That's very flattering of you."

"What can I say? I haven't had a date in months. I'm desperate." He shrugged and went back to reading the menu.

Immediately Violet felt very unimportant, but she carried on the conversation anyway. "I find that a little hard to believe," she remarked. "I mean, you're so popular and you have a great image. You're also kind of cute, to boot. You know? I mean, I'd think a fab guy like you would have all the girls begging you for dates."

Buddy lowered his menu and took a long, hard look at her. "Is that so?" he said after a while. "Blame my busy schedule, then. Maybe if I wasn't such a workaholic I'd have more time to notice all these girls who are supposedly following me around."

Violet giggled slightly. She didn't quite know why, but his tone of voice made her laugh. He went back to reading his menu and let out a bored sigh.

"May I take your orders?" said the waiter, hovering over the both of them with anticipation. "What would you like to drink?"

Buddy looked up and murmured. "Coke."

"I'll have iced tea with a lemon wedge," Violet said politely. "Thank you!"

The waiter nodded. "I'll be back with your drinks in a few."

Violet smiled and set down her menu. She'd already picked out what she wanted to eat, so there was no need to stare at it further. To her dismay, however, Buddy was still reading his menu. She tilted her head and tried to look over it. The man seemed to be doing all he could to keep himself from being seen. There was nothing left for Violet to do but try to talk to him some more.

"So, why are you so stressed out today?" she asked quietly.

"Hm?"

"I said, why are you so stressed out today?" Violet repeated in a louder tone.

Buddy lowered his menu and glared. "Are you trying to interrogate me?"

"No!" she exclaimed. "I'm just trying to start a conversation."

"I'm stressed out because I had a busy day at work. Nothing went right. After work, I was trapped in my own building by wind. I cracked the front door, which now has to be replaced. I was arrested because they thought I had broke into the building," he rambled. "I spent hours down at the police station trying to sort things out. I didn't have time to take the subway over here, so I had to borrow a crappy car from a friend of mine. I nearly hit a kid and a dog who were playing in the street – no, scratch that, I hit the dog, I'm fairly certain."

Violet blinked and opened her mouth to say something, but Buddy only continued. "Snowballs were thrown at the car by punk kids. The car broke down moments later. Snowballs were thrown at _my head _by punk kids. I had to walk the rest of the way through freezing wind and blinding snow. I was late for this date, which probably made you think less of me, and I'm trying to make sure that the paparazzi doesn't see me. The last thing I need is flashing cameras and questions coming at me from all sides."

"Wow," Violet squeaked. "I feel so sorry for you! You really _did_ have a bad day."

_And here I was thinking he was just a mean, psychopathic jerk!_

"I've had worse days." He sniffed. "There's no need to feel sorry for me. I don't need anyone's sympathy."

"But I had no _idea_," Violet persisted. "You've been through so much today."

"It's not as bad as it sounds. Stop feeling sorry for me."

The waiter approached, startling the both of them. Drinks were set down on the table, and the waiter was ready to take their dinner orders. "What will you be having to eat tonight?" he asked.

They ordered their food, and Buddy's menu was taken away from him, leaving him with no cover. Violet noticed this, but knew there was nothing she could do about it. All she had in her purse was makeup, a hairbrush, her wallet, and some assorted unidentified objects. There was a tissue, but it was possibly used, and she didn't want to risk offering it to him only for him to find unwanted residue on it. She looked at him sympathetically, and he looked down at the floor.

"Are you alright, Mr. Pine?" she asked as he began to slide down in his seat.

"Fine," Buddy replied, still slinking downward. "Never felt better in my life."

"You're kind of er – slipping," Violet pointed out.

"Is that so, Miss Parr? I didn't notice, myself. Now that you mention it, though, I am. I shall have to correct this." He reluctantly sat back up in his chair, eyes darting back and forth. It was obvious that he felt like the center of attention, despite the fact that there was obviously no one looking at him.

Violet sighed. "Hey, call me Violet – or Vi. Either one, doesn't matter to me."

"Alright, Miss Violet," Buddy coughed. "So – er – after this, do you want to go and – do something else? Something different? I don't know." His gaze had shifted towards the ceiling. "And by the way, you can call me 'Buddy' if you want. Just don't use my full name, that's all I ask."

She blushed bright red, and turned away. He had actually asked her to call him by his first name. Did that mean that he liked her? Or maybe his uncomfortable situation was causing him to act in this way. She hoped it was the former. Violet noticed that, once again, he was sliding off his chair and onto the floor beneath the table.

"Buddy?" she called, standing up.

"Hm, it seems I've fallen off my seat. What a pity." His voice sounded somewhat muffled. "What ever shall I do with myself now?"

Violet couldn't help but laugh. "If you're really so worried about the paparazzi, why don't we go to the movies or something?"

"Because I'm hungry, and it's a hunger that popcorn and candy will not correct. I haven't eaten all day. Miss Violet, do you mind if I just sit down here for a little while?" Buddy didn't seem keen on emerging from his hiding place. Needless to say, Violet felt slightly embarrassed. This was quite immature behavior for someone who ran the third largest company in the entire world.

"Just as long as you come back up when the food arrives, and stay up after that," Violet said with a long sigh. "To tell the truth, Mr. Pine, I'm kind of feeling a little awkward."

"And for that, I apologize, but you must try to understand my situation."

"I'm trying my hardest, I really am!"

There was a long pause. "So – er – how old are you, anyway?"

"You don't ask a lady her age!" Violet gasped, flustered. "And don't even think about asking my weight."

"I'll find out anyway, you know. I could look at your file or something. Unless you want me to find out by myself, you should tell me right now," Buddy said.

"I'm twenty. I'm turning twenty-one next month, though."

"Wow! I'm a lot older than you are!"

"And how old is that?"

"Just turned thirty-one last August."

Violet didn't know that he was a good ten or so years older than she was. He looked quite a bit younger than he actually was, not to mention he acted younger. Feeling even more uncomfortable, she sat back down and waited for the waiter to bring the food. It was a good ten minutes more before it came, and when it did she felt a wash of relief. Slowly Buddy Pine emerged from beneath the table, and picked up a fork. He ate hastily, as though he was trying to make the date go faster than it would have otherwise. Finally, Violet could take no more of this.

"Would you behave normally already?!" she lashed out. She immediately regretted this, and shrunk back in her seat. "I'm really sorry, I – this is the first date I've had in a while too – I – I'm so sorry for that!"

"No, no need to apologize," Buddy said, holding up one hand. "I have been a little rude."

_A _little_ rude? Try jerk of the year! _Violet thought angrily.

He continued, "And for that I am truly sorry. I really like you, _kid_, and I should treat you better. I'm sorry if I did not live up to your initial expectations."

Violet couldn't help but think he wasn't being entirely serious. There was underlying sarcasm and bitterness in his voice that she could just vaguely detect. Maybe she was imagining it, but given his previous behavior, she doubted that.

"You know, I don't think I'm going to accept your apology," she grumbled. "You've been nothing but a pompous, arrogant jerk since this date began. Do you think you're better than everyone else just because you've got a ton of money and millions of people worship the ground you walk on? Well, here's a newsflash for you, you're not better than everyone else! There are tons of people out there who deserve your fortune and happiness far more than you do!"

"You think I'm _happy_? You think I think I'm _better than everyone else_?" Buddy looked quite surprised, and yet quite displeased. "Well I'm not happy, not yet – but in a few months, I will be. As for my thinking I'm better than everyone else – I'm not, but again, in a few months, _I will be_..."

Violet was thoroughly confused. "What on Earth do you mean by that?"

"As if it's any of your business."

"You are the worst date I've ever had in my entire life!" Violet yelled, exasperated. "Well, Mr. Buddy Pine, I'm leaving!"

Buddy glared at her. "I told you not to use my full name in public! And it's late, I don't think you should leave. It's dark, and you know how crime-ridden the city is." His expression grew lighter. "Shame there aren't any _superheroes _around to fix that, eh?"

"Yeah, superheroes," Violet choked, looking around at everything but Buddy Pine. "Shame that they were banned and all. Makes you wonder if there are any still walking around today. You know, people with powers living as civilians."

She knew she was walking on a thin line talking about something like that, but if she avoided the subject altogether, it would make her look even more suspicious. She finally looked at Buddy, who had the strangest smile on his face. It was almost a knowing smile. Had he figured her out? Maybe he _was_ as smart as the magazines made him out to be. She decided it was best that she didn't say another word about it.

"Miss Violet _Parr_," Buddy was saying to himself. "Miss Parr, Miss Parr... I knew it! Mr. Incredible got _biz-zay_. How _perfect_ is this?"

Violet strained to hear what he was murmuring, but couldn't make it out. Bothered by this, she once again shrank back in her seat. "So, um, that's some cold weather we've been having recently," she started, trying to sway the subject matter from superheroes to snow. _No, no, what if I'm being even more suspicious by doing that? _Violet was thoroughly frustrated with herself at that moment.

"Yes, it is," Buddy said, a glint in his eye. "Say, I think I might take you up on that movie offer – that is, if I can get you to forgive me."

This time, the man seemed truly sorry – or was at least very convincing. Violet looked up and the ceiling and took in a deep breath. She really didn't have anything better to do, so she supposed she could forgive him and go to the movies with him. "Alright," she sighed. "I forgive you. And I'll also go to the movies with you. Just promise you won't act weird there, too?"

Buddy let out an amused laugh. "It's dark in the theater, I won't need to conceal my identity. Besides, I'm really not all _that _keen on not having people notice me. In fact, I love to be noticed – just not when I've had a terribly hectic day. Any other day I wouldn't be acting like this, but today was bad from the start."

Violet smiled warmly. His attitude had certainly changed, that was for certain. "Well, are we going to eat dessert here or get something at the movie theater?" she asked.

"I think we should get something there. I'll ask for the check as soon as the waiter comes around. So, which movie do you want to see?" he asked, leaning towards her.

"Er – how about Saturday Night Fever?" Violet suggested.

Buddy chuckled. "The disco film? Could be interesting, I suppose. Sure, why not?" He flagged down the waiter and asked for the bill. He certainly seemed pleasant compared to earlier in the evening. Violet couldn't help but wonder why his attitude had changed so suddenly.

Within ten minutes, they were out the door and headed toward the nearest theater. Violet shivered as the cold wind blew snow against her face. Buddy noticed this and reached his arm around, pulling her close to him. She blushed and looked up at him. He walked on with his head held high and a strange smirk on his face. His blue eyes held some sort of a distant, mysterious look to them, yet they also had a twinge of dark mischievousness. They came upon the theater and walked inside, shaking snow from their coats as they did so.

"Two tickets for Saturday Night Fever, _puh-lease_," requested Buddy, waving cash in front of the tired ticket-taker. After paying, they headed over to the concession stand, ordering candy and popcorn to watch the movie with.

Buddy turned to Violet. "Come on, let's see if we can get some good seats."

She nodded and followed him into the dark theater. They made their way to the middle seats of the third row, and sat down. The movie had already started, but hadn't gone far enough for them to miss anything particularly important. By the time it was over, Buddy had his arm around Violet's shoulder and was getting particularly close to her. The lights went on, and she looked at him. She wasn't sure if she should let him get so near and touchy, or if she should politely tell him to knock it off.

"Hey, so, well, it's kind of getting late," she started.

"I can take you home," Buddy offered. "We'll have to take the subway to get to my apartment so that we can get my car, though. It's brand new. I smashed up my other one a week or two ago. You're going to love it, trust me."

"Can't we just take the subway over to the part of town I live and go from there?" Violet suggested. "Or maybe we could take a taxi. I mean, there's no reason to go over to your – er – place."

He looked slightly disappointed. "Ah, hmm, well, I suppose we could do it that way, too... Maybe next time, then."

"Next time?" Violet echoed.

"Yeah! I want to know _everything _about you."

The way he said the word 'everything' seemed rather creepy to Violet. She supposed she was only being paranoid, but that coupled with the hungry look in Buddy's eyes made her once again feel a little awkward. He looked like a cat who had cornered its prey. He was even grinning in an off-kilter manner.

"Oh, is that s-so?" she stammered. "Well, I'll be seeing you then, Mr. Pine. On Monday, actually, I suppose, as that's when I start working for you."

Buddy continued to grin. "Then we'll be seeing a lot of each other, eh?"

"I suppose so." Violet turned to leave, feeling a chill as he followed behind her. That man was so unpredictable. One minute he seemed very warm and friendly, and the next he seemed like a stalker of some sort. "Say, you know what, Buddy? I'm just going to go home by myself from here."

"That's not very safe, you know. There are so many weirdos and creeps out there – I'd worry for your safety." In one swift motion he came up to her side and grabbed her shoulder, startling her severely. "And you know I couldn't live with myself if something _bad _happened to you," he whispered darkly.

Now Violet was sure that she didn't want him to walk her home. "I'll be fine, trust me," she assured him. "I know some good self-defense moves." She somehow felt the need to stress that fact.

Buddy shrugged. "Alright, if you insist. Goodnight, Miss Parr."

"Yeah, goodnight," she repeated. She ran out the door, not bothering to say anything more than that. Violet would have also turned invisible, but she knew she'd leave mysterious footprints in the snow. Now she didn't know what to think of her new boss. He seemed to be some sort of bipolar maniac. Ramone hadn't been lying when he claimed that Buddy Pine was an eccentric odd-ball. She honestly hoped that he didn't behave that way all the time.

Violet turned around, checking to see if she was being followed. She didn't see him, but just in case she quickened her pace a little bit. Images of his somewhat sinister smile flashed in her mind. There was something definitely off about him. Something evil, even. She wasn't sure if she ever wanted to see him again, let alone date him. He was too on again and off again. Before dinner he was angry and stressed, during dinner he was rude and immature, after dinner he was warm and friendly, and after the movies he was dark and frightening.

But most of all he had a deadly aura about him. The kind of aura that Violet knew could only come from someone who was a – _supervillain_. But at the time, there were no supervillains matching his description. In fact, supervillains had all but dissappeared. But Violet couldn't help but think that there was something that Buddy Pine was hiding... a dangerous secret. It was up to Violet to figure out if he was friend or foe.


	4. You Spin Me Round

**4**

"_I got to be your friend now, baby, and I would like to move in just a little bit closer..."_

- You Spin Me Round by Dead Or Alive

It was a chilly Saturday afternoon, and the weather man had advised citizens to stay inside, lest they catch their death. In an apartment on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, Buddy Pine was doing just that. He had sat himself down in the armchair in front of the television, and flicked through channels casually. His head rested in his hand, and his eyes were drooping from lack of sleep. He'd spent the entire last night researching Violet Parr and her family, to confirm his suspicions. She was indeed the child of Bob Parr, the alter ego of Mr. Incredible, as Buddy had found out through his spies. He'd invited his personal assistant, Mirage, to his apartment for drinks and conversation. She hadn't arrived yet. She'd probably been assassinated or something.

A knock on the door and a call of his name disproved this particular theory, as well as jarred him from his half-asleep state. He stood up sluggishly and staggered over to the door, peering through the peek hole to confirm that it was in fact Mirage and not some hired gun in disguise. After a moment of observation, he unlatched the door and undid all the locks. He was very high on security, not just because of the rivals out to kill him, but also because of the valuable and wonderful technology he kept hidden in his room. Of course, his bedroom was even far more secure than even the main area was. If anyone got their hands on his technology, there was no telling what they'd do with it. They'd probably use it to better the world or something silly like that.

"Come on in, Carmina – Mirage – Mir-aha-gee," he invited sleepily. She squeezed through the door and he shut it as fast as he could, nearly crushing her slender leg in the door. "Sit down or something like that, do the comfortable stuff, on the chair, on the couch." Buddy gave a lopsided grin and pointed towards his furniture. "Make yourself at home!"

Mirage looked at him, tilting her head. "If I hadn't known you'd stayed up all night, I would have thought you'd already been drinking."

"I have." He began rummaging around in his kitchen. "Last night, grape soda pop and vodka. Yummy."

"Well, that was last night, Mr. Pine –" Mirage started.

Buddy cut her off. "Last night, today, whatever! I haven't slept in nights!"

"Soda and vodka, you say? What in the world do you call –" Once again, she was cut off by him.

"And call me Buddy when we're not at work, I told you that! Geezers, Mirage, it's like you have the memory of goldfish! And I call it... Er..." Buddy rummaged around a bit more in his kitchen cupboards. "Pine-Sol?" He picked up a bottle of the kitchen cleaner and stared at it.

Mirage raised her eyebrows. "You call it Pine-Sol?" she asked. "That's a very interesting name."

"No!" he exclaimed, whirling around. "Pine-Sol! It's got my last name on it, and I didn't even know that until now and I'm excited!" Buddy set the cleaner down proudly on his kitchen counter, and turned it towards Mirage. "But now that you mention it, that would be a good name for my mixed drink..."

Amused, Mirage turned around and walked towards the couch, trying to stifle her laughter. Buddy glanced over at her, hearing her titter to herself. "Mirage, what are you giggling about?" he inquired. "And what do you want to drink?"

"Oh, nothing, Buddy," she giggled quietly. "I think I'll try some of your 'Pine-Sol', though. It sounds very unique."

He stared at her blankly for a few moments, looking completely spaced out. "You want to drink my Pine-Sol?" he murmured after a while. "Okie-dokie, if you say so..."

"Are you feeling alright, sir – Buddy?" Mirage asked, turning to look at him. "I really think you should get some sleep. You have terrible baggy circles under your eyes – and you aren't really being too competent, no offense intended."

Buddy just sighed and grumbled, and carried their drinks over to the couch. He sat down and handed Mirage her drink. She took a sip and grimaced.

"Oh, ew! What is this?" Mirage gagged, spitting it back into the cup.

"Pine-Sol. You asked for it. I gave it to you." He folded his arms over his chest. "I thought it a bit weird that you wanted to drink my kitchen cleaner but..."

"No! Sir, that's horrible, you – I can't believe you'd –" She raised her hands into the air and gagged again. "You really do need sleep, you're just not thinking straight."

Buddy Pine slumped over onto his side, dropping his drink on the floor and shutting his eyes. Mirage didn't know whether she should stay or go. She figured it was in her best interest to stay. Minutes ticked by, and Buddy continued to catch up on missed sleep. Mirage began to grow tired from watching him, and eventually, she too, fell asleep. It was about nine o'clock by the time they woke up. Buddy Pine awoke with a start, falling off the couch and onto the floor.

"E-ack!" he shrieked in surprise. "Oh, okay, okay... Okay..." He pushed himself to his feet and roused Mirage, who was still napping. "Mirage, wake up, I have something extremely important to tell you!"

She opened one eye and murmured. "Is it morning?"

"No, Mirage, listen. Remember when I told you about Mr. Incredible and stuff like that and you told me that you were on my side, and all that junk. Well, I came up with the most brilliant plan you'll ever hear in your entire life and I wanted to share it with you!" Buddy looked like he was ready to bounce off the walls.

Mirage sat up sleepily and yawned. "Alright, go on, then."

Buddy sat back down on the couch and leaned in towards her. "Okay, you know that girl I was talking about – the one that Ramone set me up with?"

She nodded.

"Well, it just so happens that she's Mr. Incredible's _daughter_!" he exclaimed. "Can you believe the luck?" Buddy grinned madly. "And I'm going to use her to get to him. I just need to get really close to her, and I have a plan for doing that. I'm going to hire assassins to start picking off the supers one by one – which was what I was going to do anyway, didn't know if you knew that, but now you do, so don't tell anyone or heads will roll."

Mirage was hardly absorbing any of his information. It just seemed as though he were rambling and monologuing without purpose. Everyone once in a while she nodded, trying to seem interested. She began to catch some keywords, and was instantly worried. Assassins. Heads rolling. It was all very macabre. "Um – sir?"

"Do not interrupt me! Anyway, I'll be killing two birds with one stone. While executing my Kronos II plan, I'll also be pushing her towards me for protection. She'll be worried that she or one of her family members will come next, and so she'll want to hang around me so I can keep her safe." He took in a deep breath. "I'm a very powerful man, and she knows that. I could protect her far better than anyone else could. I'll get her to trust me, and then I'll get to her father."

By this time, Mirage was a little unsettled. She knew that her boss had wanted revenge, but she'd no idea it involved murder and criminal activities. Maybe reputation soiling, but certainly not something as terrible as this. He hadn't gathered information on supers simply because he was trying to slander their names, but because he was trying to _kill _them.

Buddy just continued on. "And then, after I've gotten rid of the old superheroes, including that Mr. Incredible, who I will dispatch personally, I will bring a rise of new superheroes. The second generation. Bigger, better, than the one before. It'll be a revival of the Golden Age, and _I _will be their leader."

He smiled and looked at Mirage proudly. "So, what do you think?"

Mirage sat there, jaw agape. "I think – I think you're crazy!" she gasped. "Do you know what you're getting into? If you go through with this – what if the authorities were to find out – oh, you could go to jail or worse!"

"Hah! Me? Go to jail?" Buddy laughed. "Well, that's the funniest thing I've heard all day. They'd never suspect that 'Mister Perfect Pine' could ever even be capable of such horrific crimes. Besides, I'm going to fake my death."

"Fake... your... death?" Mirage could hardly believe what she was hearing.

He nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, and for that I'll need your help. You need to spread the rumor that I'm – hmm – that I'm dying from some sort of incurable disease. Yes, that's it! A rare, incurable disease. You can do that, can't you Mirage?"

"Stop it, stop it!" the personal assistant screamed. "Mr. Pine, this is ridiculous. I will not help you out with such – such – terrible things. When you said revenge, I never dreamed of anything like this. I didn't know you were like this, Mr. Pine. We need to get you help."

Mirage looked into his eyes at that moment, and saw a deep burning rage in the electric blue. Buddy leaned towards her again, teeth and fists clinched tightly. "_Mira-gee_," he growled darkly. "If you value your job – no, if you value your _life_, you will comply. And if you breathe a word of this to anyone, I will make _sure _that you will die. No witness protection program can save you, Mirage. I _will_ find you. Tread lightly."

Now Mirage was sure that her boss was out of his mind. Not only that, but he was dangerous. She knew that with his influences and power, he _could _track her down some way if she went to the police. Not only that, he could possibly even completely get away with his crimes scot-free. All it took was a very good lawyer, and Buddy Pine had all the funds he needed to hire the best. She was playing with fire now. She knew she couldn't cross him. She had no choice but to join him. "Alright, I'll go along with this," she agreed. "But I won't enjoy it, that's for sure."

"There's a good girl!" Buddy said, suddenly snapping out of his frighteningly sinister mode. His voice had grown lighter, and there was no longer an evil glare in his eyes. His darkness had come and gone like a sudden storm in summer. "Anyways, I'll get you a non-kitchen cleaner drink now. You did say you wanted to try my vodka and soda drink, right?"

"Er – I'm not really thirsty anymore," she coughed. "If you don't mind, I'm not feeling well, so I'm going to go home. Thank you for inviting me over, Mr. Pine."

"Mirage, when we're alone together – call me _Syndrome_." He said the word with such cold that it literally sent shivers down her spine.

"Alright, then. See you – Monday," Mirage said in a hurry, undoing the locks on the door and dashing out.

Buddy walked towards the door and redid the locks. "Monday," he echoed.

Everything was going according to plan.

--

Violet stood inside the bathroom in her apartment. There were only two phones in her place, both of them sharing the same line. In fact, everyone in the apartment building shared the same line. Today, everyone was talking on the phone. And they wouldn't stop. She stared at herself in the mirror. She really needed to contact her father, but the only way she could think of doing that was finding a pay phone. It was freezing outside, and the last thing she wanted to do was stand inside a phone booth in the cold. She picked up the bathroom phone again, only to find that Mimi was talking to a friend. She sighed and hung up, respecting her roommate's privacy. It was getting late, and if she promised herself that if she couldn't get a free line on the next try, she'd head over to another building and try their phone.

After waiting another ten minutes, she picked up the phone. To her surprise and delight, the line was free. Quickly, she dialed her parents' home phone number. After a couple of rings, they picked up.

"Hello, who's this?" It was her dad's deep voice.

"Dad, it's Violet! You know that guy, Buddy Pine, the one with the huge company and the money and all of that stuff? I've got some really big suspicions about him." She could feel her own heart pounding in her chest. Maybe her dad would confirm some of her suspicions.

There was a long pause from the both of them. "_Buddy_. Yes, Vi, I know him. I actually know more about him than some people do."

"That's exactly what I wanted to hear, thank you! So, what do you know about him?" Violet gripped the phone excitedly, hoping that no one would attempt to interrupt the conversation.

"Well, I may not be sure about this, so don't take my word for it, but... I think that this Buddy Pine is the same one who was a fan of mine back in the Golden Age," Bob started.

"Er, hold on a minute dad. This may not be a good place to talk about the er – 'old days'. The line's open, and anyone could be eavesdropping. Here, why don't I come over tomorrow? I could get there and back by the time I need to go to work on Monday. Is this alright with you?" she asked.

"Sure, Vi, if it's really that important to you. Come on over!"

"Thanks, dad."

Violet hung up and began to pack. She picked out a few warm outfits, and tucked them into a suitcase. Mimi was no where to be seen. She had probably gone over to see the friend she'd been talking to. She left a note on the kitchen table, and put on her warmest coat. She counted the money she had in her pocket. Not quite enough to afford both a cab and a bus ticket. She'd have to walk to the bus station, instead.

"Wait, I know what I'll do. I'll call Buddy. And maybe on the way to the bus station, I can try and get more information about him. Yes, that's so perfect!" she said to herself. She'd been given his personal number at the theater the night before. She hurried back to the telephone, and to her relief, it was once again free. She dialed the number and waited.

"Hello," came Buddy's voice, slightly distorted.

"Buddy! Hey, it's Violet! Vi! I have a big favor to ask of you," Violet squeaked, wondering if he'd actually agree to doing a favor for her.

"Anything, sweetheart," he said after a momentary pause.

Violet breathed. "Er, could you pick me up at my apartment and take me to a bus station? I'm trying to get to Metroville, but I can't afford a cab."

She heard a chuckle. "Alright, Violet," Buddy murmured. "I'll be there in a few."

"Wait, you know where I –" There was a click as he hung up."– live?" She stared at the phone for a few minutes before hanging up. "Not even a goodbye."

Violet sat down on the couch, waiting for him to arrive. It was fairly disconcerting that he knew so much about her, right down to where she lived. He probably even knew the number of her apartment. She stared at the door, every muscle in her body tense. She tried breathing deeply to relax. It worked temporarily, but she couldn't get the thought of Buddy being some sort of psycho out of her head. What if instead of taking her to a bus station, he stuck her in the trunk of his car and chopped her into pieces with an ax? But she was a super, and he wasn't. She had her force fields and invisibility. She could protect herself. Then again, what if _he _was super as well.

Her face had contorted into an expression of horror. If he was super, what if he was more powerful than she? Anxiety was welling up deep inside of her. Maybe it had been a bad idea to ask him to drive her to the bus station. She wasn't even too experienced with her powers, having never needed to use them in a combat situation before. And her forcefields... pathetic. She went back to breathing in deeply, trying to clear her mind of paranoia. Buddy Pine was _just _a normal man – no – just an _eccentric_ man. Sure, he came across as being a bipolar maniac, but he probably _wasn't_.

"I'm doomed," Violet breathed.

There was a knock on the door, followed by Buddy Pine's raspy voice. "Anyone home?"

She was sincerely tempted to answer 'no', but there'd be little point in that. "Um, yeah, coming!" Violet stood up and walked to the door, unlatching it and opening it slightly.

Buddy Pine was standing there, dressed to the nines, holding car keys in his hand. He had a very wry smile on his face, as though he were keeping a secret. Violet was speechless with both awe and fright. Though Buddy had a terrifyingly devilish look in his eyes, he was also looking quite spiffy, and rather gentlemanly. He was like a cross between his public persona, and what Violet was sure was his true self.

"May I come in?" he asked with a chuckle. "You look like you've seen a ghost, Vi, is something wrong?"

"No! Nothing's wrong, here, come in," Violet exclaimed, opening the door wider. "Sorry about the mess, I was going to clean it up but something came up and now I have to go see my parents in Metroville." She realized what she had blurted out, and hoped no questions would follow. If Buddy asked what exactly had come up, she'd have to come up with a good lie.

"_Metroville_, eh?" Buddy said with a smile. To Violet's relief, that was _all _he said.

"Yup, here, let me get my stuff. Thanks for doing this for me, Buddy." She turned around to grab her suitcase.

"My pleasure," he said smoothly. "After all, I think I owe you this. I think I scared you off when we were on that date. Not only were my manners _atrocious_, but I think I creeped you out."

It was all Violet could do to keep herself from yelling 'no kidding!' and proceeding to chide him about the incident. Maybe Buddy wasn't all that bad. He was apologizing for the matter, after all. Still, she couldn't help but continue to feel suspicious.

"Here, let me get that for you." Buddy took her suitcase from her hands and opened the door. Violet followed him out, closing and locking the door behind her.

They came outside; Buddy's car was parked right in front. It was a brand-new, jet black Porsche. On the side she was looking at, there was an elegant white 'S' painted on the door, and another on the hood. On the front of the car was a vanity license plate that read 'KRONOS'. The vehicle was truly fabulous and futuristic-looking, and Violet couldn't help but gasp.

"Like it? It's a Porsche 928," Buddy informed her.

"928? I've never heard of that." She tilted her head as Buddy opened the door for her.

"That's because it hasn't _quite _come out yet, to the general public anyway. But you'd be surprised what money can get you, and money got methis. I suspect it'll be out on the market next year." He shut the door behind her and climbed in the driver's seat.

"Wow," Violet murmured. "Yeah, so, I need to get to the bus station..."

"Sure thing, Vi," smiled Buddy. "So, did you grow up in Metroville?"

He pulled out away from the apartment building and turned down the street. Violet was contemplating whether or not to answer his question. The more he knew about her, the more dangerous things could get. She couldn't quite avoid answering, though.

"Um, yeah. It was pretty boring, y'know. Typical city, not nearly as exciting as New York!" she answered, hoping no further questions would follow.

"I grew up in Municiburg," Buddy stated. "Had a fairly interesting childhood..."

"Really?"

"Yup."

Violet smiled. "I bet your childhood story would beat mine any day."

"Probably would," Buddy laughed. "That is, if your childhood was as boring as you put it. Mine was fairly interesting, yeah, but not exactly in a good way, I suppose."

The conversation grew more and more sparse, as Violet didn't quite know how to investigate someone. Buddy wasn't acting – strange – like he had before, this time he was acting thoughtful and kind. Perhaps _too _thoughtful and kind. Or maybe Violet's doubts and suspicions were just clouding his real image. What if stress had been the only thing that had made him act the way he had the day before. She was officially stuck. She didn't know whether she was making false accusations or if she knew exactly what was up with 'Mister Perfect Pine.'

_I really fail at this, _she thought. Well, just as long as she wasn't in pieces in some dumpster somewhere, everything was okay.

When they arrived at the bus station, Buddy insisted on paying for her ticket for her. He had also loaded her luggage, and wished her a warm farewell. In all this, Violet hadn't noticed when he casually slipped a tracker, with a built in radio transmission device, on her suitcase. After waving goodbye, he walked back to his car with a smirk.

--

Robert Parr, also known as Mr. Incredible, sat on the couch in his living room. It was getting late, but he knew that he'd have to stay up in order to greet Violet when she came in from New York. He was proud of his little girl, all grown up. She'd never been the most outgoing of children, but time had changed her. Now she was going to work at one of the most successful companies in the world. Now, if only she would get a boyfriend. And not one of those hippies, or punk kids. Violet needed someone who would treat her right, and keep her safe.

It wasn't as though he didn't trust his daughter by herself, but she had always been insecure, somewhat paranoid. She had always been... a shrinking violet.

The doorbell rang and Bob pushed himself off the couch. It took a few moments of struggling, as weight problems had hindered him from many things during the past few years. He swore to himself that he was going to go on a diet, just as he did every time a simple activity turned difficult because of his weight.

"Coming," he called raspingly. He came to the door and opened it, delighted to see his daughter standing there. She looked slightly worn out, but still had that childlike sparkle in her eyes. He reached out and gave her a hug. "How's my favorite daughter doing?"

"Dad, I'm your _only _daughter," Violet laughed. Bob hadn't heard her laugh in some time, and it warmed his heart. "So, could you help me with my suitcase? It's heavy. I know it won't be a problem for _you_, though. Here, just set it down on the couch, I'll take it to the guest room later."

Bob smiled and grabbed her suitcase, setting it down on the couch before also setting himself down on the couch. He patted the empty space next to him, and Violet sat, giving him a quick hug. "So," Bob began, "do you want me to finish telling you the story I started?"

"Right down to business, I guess," giggled Violet. "Yeah, I was really interested about that. I've been suspicious of that Buddy Pine guy that I'm going to be working for. I mean, you see, I was talking to him and – he came across as a really nutjob."

"Well, here then, let me tell you what I know – or at least, think I know, about him. It started back in Municiburg, during the Golden Age of superheroes. It was the day your mother and I were going to get married. I was on my way to the chapel when I heard that there was a chase going on, nearby, too. Well, being a superhero, I couldn't exactly let something like that go..."

--

Sirens blared, and reports of a dangerous chase came across the radio. Mr. Incredible activated the high-tech pursuit isolator on his car, and glanced at his watch. "Yeah, I've got time," he said to himself, then merging the pursuit and setting his car into auto-drive. In a flash, his car transformed, and he was outfitted in his full super suit. He launched into turbo, and sped down the streets, determined to catch the criminals.

Down the road just a little ways, was an old woman, trying to coax her cat down from a tree. Seeing Mr. Incredible driving her way, she signaled to him, stepping out in the road so he would stop. He slammed on the breaks, narrowly avoiding striking her down.

"What is it, ma'am?" Mr. Incredible asked, always willing to help a citizen in need.

The old woman pointed up at the tree, where a small orange cat sat, meowing pathetically. "My cat, Squeaker, won't come down," she cried.

Mr. Incredible glanced at the pursuit, headed in his direction. "Certainly ma'am," he replied. "But I suggest you stand clear, there could be trouble." He certainly didn't want the old woman getting caught in something like that.

"No, no, he's quite tame," she told him, clearly misunderstanding.

Mr. Incredible uprooted the tree and began shaking it, trying to get the cat to fall into the arms of its owner. The poor feline was holding on for dear life; the exact opposite of what Mr. Incredible and the old woman wanted it to do.

Suddenly, Mr. Incredible heard the monitor in his car bleeping. The car chase was coming closer! In fact, he could now see them. He went back to shaking the tree, more furiously this time. "Let go now," he growled anxiously to the cat.

The cat continued to hold on, even as leaves and twigs were falling off the tree. Finally, it fell out of the tree, and into the arms of the old woman. The police chase was extremely close now, and Mr. Incredible did the first thing he could think of. He took the tree and slammed it into the road, causing the criminals to run right into it.

Moments later, they were apprehended, and Mr. Incredible was thanked by both the police and the old woman.

"Thank you, Mr. Incredible," said one officer. "You've done it again."

"Yeah, you're the best," the other piped up.

"No, I'm just here to help," Mr. Incredible told them, modestly.

The radio on his car began to shout out again, this time the trouble was a tour bus robbery. Mr. Incredible looked at his watch. "I've still got time," he said to himself. "Officers, ma'am, Squeaker." He acknowledged them all before hopping into his car.

--

"And that's when I looked over to notice none other than my self-proclaimed biggest fan, Buddy," Bob went on. "Amazing I can remember his name now, when I couldn't even remember it then. He was dressed in the most ridiculous outfit I'd ever seen, and he was insisting on being my sidekick..."

--

"Cool, ready for take-off!"

Mr. Incredible looked over to see a slightly pudgy kid, no more than about ten in age, with strawberry blond hair and bright blue eyes. He was wearing an obviously homemade costume, and looked overly excited.

"What the...?" Mr. Incredible gawked. "Who are you supposed to be?"

The fanboy put his hands on his hips. "Well, I'm IncrediBoy!" he announced proudly.

"What?" Mr. Incredible said. He looked down, trying to figure out where he'd seen this kid before. "No, you're that kid from the fanclub!" He stammered, trying to remember his name. "Brophy. Brody... Buddy!" Yes, that was it!

"_Buddy_!" Mr. Incredible snapped angrily.

Buddy had his eyes narrowed, and was glaring straight ahead. He turned to Mr. Incredible with a look of bother on his face. "My name is _IncrediBoy_," he insisted.

Mr. Incredible sighed impatiently. "Look, I've been nice, I've stood for photos, signed every scrap of paper you pushed at me, but this is –"

Buddy interrupted excitedly. "No, no, no! You don't have to worry about training me! I know all your moves, your crime fighting style, favorite catch phrases, everything!" He enhanced his sentences with wild arm motions and hyper speech. He sat up and faced his hero proudly.

"I am your number one fan!" he finished loudly.

Mr. Incredible could take no more of this. He pushed the button for the ejector seat and sent Buddy flying out of the car and landing onto the grass. He then drove away, off to stop the tour bus robbery.

--

Bob let out a long sigh. "I thought that was the last I'd see of him, after that. I thought he'd just go home. But no, I was wrong. Later, I caught a robbery in progress. Bomb Voyage had blown the door clear off of a vault... and I had been in the right place at the right time..."

--

Mr. Incredible had just stopped a suicide, and was now faced with his arch-enemy, Bomb Voyage. It seemed as though the string of things going awry wouldn't end, and he was running out of time before the wedding. He'd met his wife-to-be, Elastigirl, earlier. They'd exchanged banter, it was all quite casual. But now he was crushed beneath the door to a vault. No problem when you've got partial invincibility and super strength. He tossed it off, coughing as dust flew up around him.

"Bomb Voyage," he growled, acknowledging his foe.

"_M__onsieur Incroyable_," the French supervillain snarled in reply.

Out of nowhere, a third voice spoke up. "And IncrediBoy!"

They both turned in confusion to see none other than Buddy, standing against the hole in the broken glass of the building, cape flapping heroically in the breeze.

"_IncrediBoy_?" Bomb Voyage said with confusion as Buddy fired up his jet boots and landed next to the both of them. Mr. Incredible glared at him, exasperated.

"Hey, hey! Aren't you curious as to how I get around so fast?" Buddy asked. He lifted one leg, showing off a crude-looking rocket boot. "See? I have these rocket boots. They're made from –"

Mr. Incredible interrupted. "Go home, Buddy."

"What?"

"Now."

Bomb Voyage snorted. "_Petit naïf libe_!"

Buddy grabbed Mr. Incredible's arm and pulled him to the side. "Can we talk?" he started. "You always, always say be true to yourself, but you never say which part of yourself to be true to." He stared at himself for a moment in the door of the vault before walking back over towards Mr. Incredible. "Well, I've finally figured out who I am. I am your ward... IncrediBoy!"

"And now, you have officially carried it too far, Buddy," Mr. Incredible said, grabbing Bomb Voyage as he tried to get away.

Buddy immediately became defensive. "This is because I don't have powers, isn't it? Well not every superhero has powers, you know. You _can _be super without them." He then proudly began to show off his jet boots. "_I _invented these. I can fly, can you fly?"

Mr. Incredible once again glared at him. "Fly home, Buddy. I work alone."

"_Et ton costume est complètement ridicule_!" added Bomb Voyage.

Now Buddy was desperate to prove himself. "J-just give me one chance!" he begged. "I'll show you. I'll go get the police!" He turned around, rushing towards the broken window. He didn't notice when Bomb Voyage attached a miniature, bleeping bomb to his cape.

But Mr. Incredible did. "Buddy, don't!" he warned.

"It'll only take a second, really," Buddy insisted.

"No, stop! There's a bomb!"

Mr. Incredible threw Bomb Voyage to the side and grab hold of Buddy's cape. They dropped out of the window, and were only kept aloft by the kid's rocket boots. Still unaware as to what was going on, Buddy kept yelling at Mr. Incredible.

"Whoa, hey! Let go! You're wrecking my flight pattern!" he cried. "I can do this if you let go!"

"Will you just...? I'm trying to help!" Mr. Incredible shouted.

Buddy just continued on. "Let go of my cape!"

"Stop!"

--

"For a moment or two, I thought we'd both be killed. I yanked the bomb off of his cape, thankfully – unfortunately, I fell to the ground onto a monorail, where a train was coming my direction. I was able to stop it but..." Bob let out a sigh.

"What's wrong?" Violet asked, looking up at her father.

"They sued. I saved them, and they sued me. And that lawsuit was the beginning of the downfall of the Golden Age." Bob shook his head with disbelief.

"So, it was Buddy's fault that – that's terrible," Violet gasped.

"Here, let me finish, Vi..."

--

After stopping the monorail, just barely, Mr. Incredible managed to catch up with 'IncrediBoy'. He took the kid by the arm and gave him to two police officers who were standing by. Buddy was struggling and trying to get away, but Mr. Incredible kept a tight grip on him.

"Take this one home," he told the officers. "And make sure his mom knows what he's been doing."

Buddy struggled again as he was pushed into the police car. "I can help you!" he persisted. "You're making a mista—hey!" He was shoved into the car and the door was promptly closed behind him.

"The injured jumper... You sent paramedics?" Mr. Incredible asked the officers.

They nodded. "They've already picked him up."

"The blast in that building was caused by Bomb Voyage who I caught in the act robbing the vault," Mr. Incredible informed them. "Now, we might be able to nab him if we set up a perimeter."

"You mean he got away?" asked a confused officer.

Mr. Incredible motioned towards the police car. "Well, yeah. Skippy here made sure of that."

"IncrediBoy!" maintained Buddy, his arms folded over his chest.

Mr. Incredible leaned in, pointed at him, and yelled. "You're not affiliated with me!"

--

"After that, I had to get to the wedding, and quick. It's a miracle your mom still married me, I suppose." He laughed slightly. "As for Buddy... well, things started falling apart for everyone after that. Instead of fanmail, he sent me death threats. He showed up at fanclub rallies merely to bash the name of Mr. Incredible. I even heard he burned all his 'Mr. Incredible' merchandise and actively protested to ban supers." Bob looked down. "It's clear he didn't take my rejection lightly."

"Do you think he'd still be angry, even after all these years?" Violet asked curiously.

"You know, I'm not sure about that, Vi," he replied. "I would hope he'd have gotten over it by now. If not, he'd have to be – well – a nutjob. Still, we don't even know if the boy I'm talking about is the same corporate hotshot Buddy Pine. Though, I do see a resemblance between the two, in looks."

Violet narrowed her eyes. "Then Buddy Pine _must _be Buddy the fanboy! If they look alike – and Buddy Pine is a genius, just like the kid with the rocket boots... It all fits, thanks dad!" She reached up and hugged him once again. "You've really helped me out here."

Robert didn't know what his little girl was figuring, or suspecting, but he was glad he had helped her out. "No problem, Vi," he said. "Now, since it's late, you'd better get some rest. You going to stay tomorrow?"

"Most of it, but I have to get back to New York in time to start my new job on Monday," Violet said. "Thanks again, dad."

He watched as she took her suitcase and headed off to the guest bedroom, giving him a warm look as she left. She had matured a lot. She was off on her own, and had her own job in New York. One thing was worrying him now, and that was: what if Buddy still held a grudge? If Violet was working for him, and he found out that she was his daughter... No, he was being too paranoid. No successful businessman would risk everything just to get back at someone who denied him the position of being a superhero sidekick.

... Or so he hoped.

--

Buddy Pine narrowed his eyes. Every word said in Violet and her father's conversation had been relayed to him. His suspicions were confirmed, one-hundred and ten percent. He'd had underlying doubts, but now – he was absolutely sure of himself. Soon, he'd begin his plan. Soon, he'd drive Violet close to him... And soon, he'd have his revenge on Mr. Incredible.

**A/N: **_I guess it's fairly obvious that I don't own the dialog in the Mr. Incredible story flashback scenes. XD Thank you to those who have read and reviewed my story, you're all very nice. Especially those of you who read despite not liking this pairing! ^^ I promise you though, the Synlet in the story won't overwhelm everything else. That was never my intention, really. It will be present though, I just hope that this is a story that anyone can enjoy, wether they're a fan of that good ol' crack shipping or not._


	5. True Faith

**5**

"_When I was a very small boy, very small boys talked to me. Now that we've grown up together, they're afraid of what they see."_

True Faith by New Order

Ramone Hawkins walked down the street, leaving footprints in the snow as he went along. Snowflakes came down from the sky in an elegant flurry, and covered everything in a soft blanket of white. The city almost seemed beautiful as opposed to being filthy and drab. Maybe that's because it was being seen through the eyes of an artist. The only thing Ramone failed to find the beauty in as of recent was Monica, his girlfriend – no – ex-girlfriend. Buddy had been right when he'd criticized her for being obnoxious and a snot. One thing had led to another, they'd argued, and they'd broke up. Monica had wanted to move to California to fulfill her dream of becoming a movie star, but that kind of life wasn't what Ramone had wanted.

He felt rather sad. The cold atmosphere, beautiful as it was, did nothing to help that fact. He'd called Buddy many times that week to try and talk; to try and get together sometime. He was always busy. It was as though the entire world had shut him out. He had nothing to turn to now but his artwork. He'd spent the last couple of days painting city skylines and views from atop buildings, but those all paled in comparison to the piece of artwork he called his masterpiece. It was a painting of Sonarstrike, a Silver Age superhero. Yes, supers had been banned around the States, all but a few cities, one of them being Chicago, where Ramone had lived previously. It was self-portrait, of course. He hadn't been a superhero for long, but he'd enjoyed the experience while he had.

In the minds of many, the Silver Age had never happened. It'd just been a fad started by a bunch of punk kids with superpowers. It was nothing big, there were no major supervillains – yet it felt important to Ramone. It was a part of him that he could never forget. He stopped suddenly, turning around. He could have swore he'd heard a noise, but no one was there. Maybe he was being followed. Maybe he'd saved Buddy Pine's life one too many times, and now the ones who were after the rich businessman were now after him.

He looked straight ahead and saw a phone booth. He took a few steps towards it and once again heard noise behind him. Out of the blue came gunshots, and he rushed forward, looking for a place to hide. No, he'd call Buddy instead. If he'd saved him, he would surely return the favor. He darted into the phone booth, cringing as glass shattered around him. Quickly, he pulled out coins and began shoving them into the pay phone without bothering to count it. As soon as he figured there were enough in there, he dialed Buddy's number at lightning speed.

There were two rings before he picked up. "Buddy Pine speaking, how may I help you?"

"Yeah, uh, Buddy, this is your pal, Ramone! I'm in a bit of a –" He was cut off as more bullets whizzed by and more glass shattered. "A bit of a jam! I'm being targeted! Could you send help, and fast? The police, maybe?"

He could hear breathing and slight chuckling from Buddy's end of the line. "Save yourself," came his reply.

Ramone couldn't believe what he was hearing. "W-what?" he stammered, thinking he had perhaps misheard. "What did you say?"

"I said save yourself, super. I'm sure you don't need me to fight your battles for you – Sonarstrike." Buddy let out an evil cackle.

"Come on, Buddy, stop yanking my chain! I'm in a dire situation here, man!" There was really nothing left of the phone booth now except for a frame. "Please, I can't use my powers in this type of situation –" A bullet zoomed through the air and hit him, sending him sprawling, phone still in hand. "Help me!"

"Have a nice day, Mr. Hawkins, and thank you for calling."

Several more bullets seemed to come out of nowhere, striking Ramone repeatedly until he was surely fatally wounded. He had an expression of betrayal and disbelief on his face. Blood leaked from his wounds and onto the pure white snow, forming a pool around him. His vision began to grow dark, and the last thing he ever saw was the snowflakes falling down from the sky. So peaceful, so beautiful...

--

It had been two weeks since Violet had started working for Buddy Pine. So far, the experience had been very pleasurable. All she really had to do was greet people, answer questions, sort mail, and file things. Well, there were a few more tasks, but it was all very easy. Better yet, Buddy hadn't been acting psychotic. Instead, he'd been acting very outgoing, doing even more interviews, and donating to all sorts of charities. His chilling behavior from the date, as well as her father's story, were in the back of her mind, for the most part. It wasn't that she was disregarding them, she was simply giving Buddy a chance to prove himself sane.

Now she was sitting down, answering a call to the office and writing down information. She never really did see him that much. He'd murmur a greeting in the morning and then hop off to his personal assistant, who for some reason looked frightened every time she saw him headed in her direction. When she did see him, she noticed that he was gradually growing his hair out longer. It hadn't really been too short to begin with, and on casual occasions it had been slightly teased around the top, and came down around the back of his head. Oh, and there were sideburns that went just down to the base of his ears. Now she could visibly notice that the length of his hair was only a few inches from touching his shoulders, and looked somewhat unruly. He really didn't even bother to style it professionally anymore, either.

She wondered why it was she noticed this kind of thing. It wasn't as though she had much time to observe him, yet she could recall the details. No one else had commented on it, though she figured they wouldn't even if they had noticed. The employees weren't too gossipy or chatty, more reclusive than anything. Violet counted this as a plus, as it'd be terribly annoying to try and work whilst having someone babbling on about nonsense.

There was a large stack of files on her desk now, several of them marked 'top secret'. Needless to say it takes a lot of willpower to keep out of something so secret. She looked around, waiting until she was sure no one was around to see, and took them out of the stack, placing them under her desk. She filed away the rest, and settled down to read them. She felt a little bad about it, but that didn't stop her from reading them. She opened the first file and saw bills from an organization called WHO. Violet had heard of them before, and they weren't good. They were the Worldwide Henchman Organization, a league of lowlifes for hire who would serve only supervillains. She'd heard her father talk about them many times. Finding this began to arouse more suspicions about Buddy Pine.

A bell sounded. "Hello, is anyone here?"

Violet nearly bashed her head against the top of her desk in an attempt to crawl out and attend to the visitor. "Um, yes, hello!" she greeted. "Welcome to Syncorporated, how may I help you?"

The man standing in front of her was tall, muscular, and had a series of scars on his face. He was very rugged, and rather intimidating. He wore a gray jumpsuit with a patch over the heart that read 'AC'. From all this, she could only gather that this man was here to fix something. "I need to see the boss of this place," he growled in what seemed to be a Ukrainian accent.

"Alright, sir, what's your name and do you have an appointment?" Violet asked professionally.

"It's none of your business, young lady," spat the man. "Just take me to see your boss. He knows me, just take me to him."

Violet looked down at her desk and pressed the intercom button. "Mr. Pine, there's a man here to see you. He won't tell me his name, but he says you know him."

"Send him up," came Buddy's reply.

"Are you sure?" Violet asked.

There was a pause. "No, Violet, I'm not sure. I really don't know what I was thinking in asking this person up to my office. Thank you for stopping me," he spat sarcastically. "Now send him up."

At first she was taken aback by his harsh tone, then she realized that this wasn't casual, and his orders were _orders_. She looked at the AC man and pointed to the elevator. "Just take that to the top floor, his office is through the first door you see," she said. "Oh, and have a nice day!"

The man just snorted and walked over to the elevator, disappearing inside as the doors closed behind him. Violet immediately scrunched back down to read the rest of the files. There were more bills from all sorts of underground organizations. There was also a bill from Assassins Corporation – 'AC' for short. Her eyes widened with sudden realization. _That _was what the patch on the Ukrainian man's jumpsuit meant. "Oh, crap," she whispered. "Either Buddy Pine hired him, or he's been hired to kill him. Oh, either way, this isn't good at all!"

"Excuse me, is anyone here?" asked a man.

She quickly jumped up to respond. She had a job to do, and she couldn't let investigating get in the way. She bit her lip and gave the inquirer directions to the nearest bathroom. If the assassin had been hired to kill Buddy Pine, she'd have to react immediately. As soon as she made sure there weren't any more people asking for directions to some place or another, she jumped up and rushed towards the elevator, pushing the button to the top floor more times than called for. She felt guilty about leaving her desk, but if someone's life was on the line, she needed to do whatever she could to help.

The elevator doors opened and she scooted inside. The doors began to close, but were suddenly stopped by someone with a manual in hand. The doors reopened, and a platinum blond woman darted in, briefly looked at the lit-up number Violet had pushed, and backed up. Apparently she was going to the same floor that Violet was. "I hope you're not going to bother him too long," the blond woman said suddenly, an exotic accent lacing some of her words. "He's a very busy man, you know."

"He's going to die if I don't get up there quickly!" Violet exclaimed, panicky.

The blond woman cast an amused, yet casual look in her direction. "Is that a fact?" she asked. "What makes you think he's going to die?"

The doors opened at the top floor. "I don't have time to explain!" replied Violet, rushing out and into the office without knocking.

She tripped inside, and found herself in an extremely large, luxury office, with panoramic glass windows surrounding everything. The sight was breathtaking, and managed to take her focus off of saving Buddy's life. Suddenly, a harsh growl brought her attention back.

"Why, if it isn't Miss Parr. To what do I owe the pleasure of having you burst into my office unannounced?" Buddy snarled with sarcasm. It was clear he was unharmed, which was good news. The bad news was, he was extremely irritable. He had stood up halfway from his chair, his hands pressed against the semi-circular desk before him.

Violet suddenly shrunk back, feeling terribly embarrassed and foolish for acting so rashly. "I – I was just checking on you, Mr. Pine," she said, her voice barely audible. "I was a little worried about you, that's all. No reason for it. That's just how I am."

The exotic woman with the platinum blond hair came up behind Violet and put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't be too hard on her, Mr. Pine," she said. "It's clear this employee was only worried about your health. She seemed very panicked in the elevator, on our way up here." There was a hint of anxiety in the woman's voice, as though she were worried that Buddy would lash out too harshly. Violet cringed and backed up, closer to the woman.

Buddy gritted his teeth and looked to the Ukranian man, who was standing to him, a perplexed expression on his rugged face. He then looked back to the blond woman and took a deep breath. "Well, I'm obviously in prefect health, wouldn't you say?" His voice was slightly unsure, as though he were telling a lie of some sort. His eyes connected with his personal assistant's, and a sudden look of knowing came to her face. She nodded and turned to Violet.

"Y-yes, he's in perfect shape, really," she said. Her voice also sounded unsure, and her eyes flicked downwards.

Violet blinked several times. Was Buddy _not_ in good health? From the behavior of the two, that seemed to be the case. They were showing subtle signs of lying – no – it wasn't subtle at all. It was obvious they were blatantly lying. Curiosity crept upon her, but she wasn't about to embarrass herself further by asking about it.

"Mirage, please escort Miss Parr back downstairs, and then return to me," Buddy ordered.

"I can escort myself," Violet murmured. She walked out the door and into the elevator, pressing the down button. If the assassin wasn't there to kill Buddy, it was clear that he had been hired by him – but for what purpose? Buddy had many enemies, that was a well-known fact, but could he actually be thinking about taking one of them out? So much for being 'Mr. Perfect Pine'. Now he was 'Mr. Corrupt Businessman With A Hidden Agenda Pine'.

_Should I tell anyone about this? _Violet thought to herself. _If I did, I'd be putting my own life on the line. Besides, what if my suspicions end up being incorrect – in some way – what if AC does stand for something else...?_

"No, it can't stand for anything else," she murmured. "It said so, right there on the document. Oh, why do I always have to be so curious? Curiosity _killed _the cat!"

The elevator doors opened, and she stepped out, heading over to her desk where a line had grown. She apologized to them all, and sat down, trying to work around the questions spinning in her head. Every time she tried to concentrate on the inquiring customers, they'd pop up and drag her focus towards them. _Focus, Vi, focus. After work you can contemplate this, but right now you have a job to do._

She forced herself to smile as someone else asked her where the bathroom was. Tonight, she would be able to focus more on solving this mystery. For now, there was work to be done.

--

Robert Parr burst into his house, nearly ripping down the door in a frantic effort to get inside. His breathing was rapid, and his eyes were wide and worried. If what the agent at the NSA had told him was true, his family could be in grave danger. Left and right, supers were being killed by someone who obviously knew their weaknesses. Though it seemed that only supers that had once had careers as superheroes at some point in their lives were being murdered, there was no point in taking a risk in case whomever was ordering these killings decided to go after _everyone _with superpowers.

He rushed past the dining room and into the kitchen. Helen was in the kitchen with Jack-Jack, preparing dinner without a care in the world. She used her powers to reach over for something in the cabinet on the other side of the room. Jack-Jack, Robert knew, had never displayed any signs of superpowers, so hopefully he'd be safe. So far, none of the non-powered family members of dead supers had been killed...

"Helen!" Robert rasped, his throat dry and sore.

She turned around, startled. "Bob!" she exclaimed. "Is something wrong?" Helen looked him up and down for a moment, and then she quietly ordered Jack-Jack to go to his room. The boy complained for a few seconds, but after a hard stare from his mother, he gave in and left.

"I – I have bad news," Robert sighed, leaning against the wall, trying to catch his breath. He held out the warning paper he'd been given by the NSA, complete with a list of supers that had already been murdered.

Helen took the paper and opened it, staring at Robert every few moments before she began to read it. Gradually, her mouth began to open, and her eyes began to widen. "Everseer... Vectress... Gamma Jack... Psycwave...!" She read a few of the names off the list as she went through it. Visible tears were coming to her eyes, though she was struggling to keep them back.

"Why – who the hell would do this?" Helen demanded furiously.

Robert cringed. He hadn't seen his wife this outraged in years, and ever since they'd first had Violet, he'd also never heard her use a single curse-word. "They don't know yet. They're investigating to find out. They've got a bunch of top secret agents and such on the job," he replied. "If they can't get 'em, no one can."

_Except maybe a superhero..._

"I've got to call Violet, she needs to know about this," Helen said, picking up the phone in a hurry and dialing her daughter's apartment number.

Robert nodded in agreement. With his daughter so far away, there was no way he could be there to protect her. He could only hope that she was strong enough to take care of herself – but knowing her personality and tendencies, there was a hint of doubt...

--

Violet was alone in her apartment that night. Mimi had, by some miracle, gotten herself a boyfriend. He wasn't half bad looking, either, from what Violet had seen of him. For some reason, Violet felt a little jealous. She hadn't had a relationship since she'd broke up with Tony Rydinger, a couple of years ago. They'd been going out for so long, and at one point, Violet had even thought they would get married – but things just didn't work out.

She felt lonely, but it was nothing she couldn't handle. Maybe she'd give Buddy a call later on, as ludicrous as that seemed. It would be just a casual chat, but perhaps she'd attempt to get some information out of him at the same time. She reached for the phone when it suddenly rang. She picked up the phone, expecting to hear Mr. Pine's voice, but instead it was her mom speaking.

"Violet, something terrible is going on," her mom said, sounding extremely upset.

Violet gripped the phone tightly. "What is it? Is everyone alright? Dad didn't have another heart attack, did he?"

"It's alright, Violet, the family is safe – and I'm hoping it stays that way."

"Why wouldn't it stay that way?" Violet demanded, beginning to grow panicky. Her palms were sweaty as she waited for her mom's reply.

She could hear Helen sigh. "Heroes are dying, Violet," she said. "Someone is killing them, someone who knows their weaknesses; someone powerful."

_Buddy! _This was the first thought that entered her head. As soon as she thought it, though, she began running through a list of ways to dismiss it. He didn't have a motive. He wouldn't risk his reputation. He was Mr. Perfect _Freaking _Pine!

"Violet, are you still there?" Helen asked worriedly.

"I'm here, mom. I'll – I'll be as careful as I possibly can be," Violet assured her.

Helen breathed in relief. "Please keep close to other people as much as you possibly can. No smart criminal would go after someone in a crowd. There's safety in numbers, you know."

"This is New York, mom," Violet said with a shaky laugh. "I don't think I'll have a problem with that. There are tons and tons of people here."

"But even so – I mean, one of the heroes was killed right there in New York – it was Sonarstrike. I hadn't heard much about him, apparently he was a Silver Age superhero from Chicago. His real name was Ramone – Hawker? Hawkins? Yes, it was Hawkins."

"_Ramone_?" Violet squeaked. That was Buddy's old friend, the artist she'd talked to whilst out on a walk – the one that had warned her of his 'eccentricities'. He couldn't be dead, could he? Did Buddy even know about this?

Would Buddy actually order the death of his own friend? No, again, there was no motive. There was no way he would be killing former superheroes. What could he possibly gain from that, anyway? Nothing, that's what. If he was caught, it'd ruin his life and his reputation – not to mention he'd get the death penalty.

"I've got to go now, Violet, there's dinner to be cooked. Stay safe, sweetie, and call me if you feel as though you're in any danger," her mother said, and hung up.

Violet set the phone down, suddenly cringing as she remembered the fact that the phoneline was open. She strongly hoped no one had been listening into that conversation. It was later on at night, but then again, the city never slept.

A creaking sound from the kitchen startled her suddenly. It seemed as though every little noise was amplified due to her fear. If someone was killing supers, what if she was next? She needed protection, and she needed it that instant.

"That's it, I'm calling him," she told herself. She picked up the phone and dialed the number of Buddy's apartment, hoping that he wasn't asleep.

--

Buddy stood at his bathroom mirror, hairspray on the sink and a comb in his hand. He bent over and began coming his hair, spritzing the megahold hairspray every once in a while to keep things in place. Earlier that day, he'd noticed that his hair was finally long enough to achieve the look he wanted with it. It was still only just down to his shoulders, but he'd let it grow out longer later on. The more combing and hairspraying he did, the more his hairstyle began to take shape.

After applying one last coat of the hairspray, he stood up to look at his creation. He saw himself in the mirror, with high red hair shaped like flames. He grinned in pleasure, satisfied with what he'd done with himself. Sure, it wasn't a good look for a businessman like himself, but it wasn't as though he'd be a businessman for long.

He began putting away the things on his sink, and the phone rang. He stopped and went to get it. He leaned up against the wall and said, in the most smooth and 'sexy' voice he could manage. "Hey, you've reached the apartment of Buddy, how may I help _you_?"

"... Buddy? Why do you sound so suggestive?"

It was Violet Parr.

_Crap._

"Er – no reason, I've just been watching spy movies again and it's got me into that – super cool secret agent mood. Yes, indeed, it has." He was satisfied enough with his explanation, at least he had avoided embarrassment... Why was Violet calling him, anyway?

"So, what, are you pretending to be a Bond girl?" Violet asked innocently.

Buddy's eyes snapped open. "W-what? No! Heck, no!" So much for avoiding embarrassment. "Why are you calling me? Do you you need something?"

_Please let this call be about her wanting me to protect her from the 'evil people' who are killing supers..._

"I'm just a little scared – I can't really explain it to you – it's kind of complicated, but I was wondering if I could come over or something. I just really don't want to be alone right now."

_Hahah. Awesome. I'm like – psychic or something._

"Uhm... Sure! You can come over here. Would you like me to pick you up?" he asked, sounding rather pleased.

Violet apparently caught on to the pleased sound in his voice. "Buddy... This isn't a date..."

"I know! I know!" he exclaimed. Of course it wasn't a date. He was just inviting her over to his apartment...

There was nothing date-ish about that...

...Okay, maybe a little.

"Alright, come pick me up then. I've got to go now, I think someone else needs to use the phone. I hear numbers being dialed..." She hung up immediately, without giving him a chance to say goodbye.

Buddy smirked. This was getting good.

--

Throughout the entire car ride, Violet had tried to avoid the subject of Buddy's hair. She could only assume he had gone out to disco at some recent time, and hadn't had a chance to let his hair recover from the strange afro it was done up in. She followed him quietly past the apartment receptionist, and into the elevator, and finally to the door of his apartment. He opened it and pushed it open. Violet's first reaction was a jawdrop.

His apartment looked absolutely luxurious. It was clean, and new-looking, and everything looked expensive. There was contemporary artwork on the pristine white walls, making it all seem classy.

"I _really_ love your apartment," she commented in awe.

Buddy nodded proudly. "Yeah, well, most people who come here do. The people who don't are just _jealous_." He motioned for her to go on inside, and she did. "Have a seat on the couch."

"Do you mind if I stay the night here?" Violet asked.

She saw him raise an eyebrow.

"Er – I didn't mean it like that. You know, just a sleepover," she added.

Buddy snorted as he walked into the kitchen. "What do you think I am, a twelve year old girl?" he laughed. "Want a drink? I have milk, juice, water – or alcoholic beverages."

Violet pondered her decision for a moment. "I think I'll just have some juice." She wasn't about to get herself drunk at Buddy's apartment, not while she still had doubts about him.

"Okay dokie, then," he said, reaching into the refrigerator. "Any particular kind? I have orange, grape, apple... and I think mixed berry, too."

"Hmm... Grape sounds good," said Violet. She sat down on the couch, waiting for him to arrive with her drink. She turned her head to watch him get it out, making sure he didn't put anything in it that could poison her or knock her out. Everything seemed to be relatively normal.

Eventually, Buddy came back with two drinks in his hands. He gave one to Violet and set his down on the coffee table. "So, am I going to get any explanation as to why you're so afraid?" he asked.

"No, sorry," she said, taking a sip of grape juice.

"Be careful not to spill that on my couch – it's tough to get purple out of the white fabric, you know," Buddy warned.

"I won't spill it, I promise," she smiled. She couldn't help but notice that the more grape juice she drank, the sleepier she was getting. Maybe he had managed to stick something into it after all. Suddenly, her head tilted and her eyes shut. She dropped her glass onto the couch, causing grape juice to fly all over the furniture and carpet.

Buddy smacked his forehead. "Darn it, I gave her the wrong juice!" he exclaimed. "Oh – oh, this is just brilliant. Now she'll think that I'm trying to rape her – gah, and there's purple grape juice all over my couch! Why do I have such trouble with women and drinks?"

Violet fell back onto his lap, a cute smile on her face and her black hair falling over one side of her face. She was really out cold. He could move or get up, lest she awaken and get some wrong idea. He'd just have to wait until the morning, and then say she just – fell asleep mid conversation.

"Next time, Buddy, use labels on the juice pitchers," Buddy murmured to himself.

He stared at her for a moment, and then he brushed the hair away from her face. He tried to keep himself from being aroused by any of this. She was attractive, sure, but she was also the daughter of his enemy. No, he didn't want her as a romantic interest, he wanted her as a link to Mr. Incredible. Later on in his plans, she could come in handy – maybe even as a weapon. Did she have super powers? What were they?

Buddy plucked a strand of hair from her head and carefully placed it onto the coffee table so that he could take a good look at it later. He wouldn't be able to find out exactly what her powers were, but he would be able to discover if she had them or not. If she did... it was all the better for him. If not, well... she'd still be useful.

He leaned back, adjusting himself so that he'd be able to get some sleep. He used his remote control to shut off the lights, and shut his eyes. Everything was going so well for him... Life was really, really good...


	6. New Message

**6**

"_So relevant, a new message. I'm passing a story to you. I'm mixing the facts around, I think it works better..."_

New Message by The Lucy Show

Violet's eyes fluttered open. Everything around her seemed to be a blur. Her heart felt like it was going to pound out of her chest. The only thing she could think of was that her life was in danger. She could hear footsteps, and she dizzily tried to get to her feet. She heard a distorted voice. It sounded vaguely familiar. She didn't remember exactly what had happened, but she wasn't going to take any chances.

She swung her fist into the nearest thing, and heard a startled yelp. She fell backwards, nearly knocking her head against a table. The room was spinning. She couldn't think straight. Her thoughts were as blurred as her vision.

Slowly everything began to come back into focus. She looked around the room to see Buddy Pine. He was dressed for business, with suspenders, a dress shirt, and a tie. He was missing a coat, however, and looked a little bit casual because of it. His hair was a complete mess, and he was holding his hand to his face. She could see little drops of blood leaking over his fingers.

"Damn it, Parr! You hit me in the face!" he yelled. She could almost hear him clearly now. "My nose... oh ah... it feels broken." Now he sounded a bit muffled, but it was less from her perception and more from the fact that he was covering his mouth and nose with his hands.

Violet rubbed her temples with her fingers and shook her head once again to clear her mind. She realized that she had just punched her boss in the face. What was he doing here anyway? Where exactly was she and what had happened?

"I'm so sorry," she murmured weakly. "Please forgive me, I'm just a little bit confused. Where am I, exactly?" The room looked familiar. She just couldn't place where she'd seen it.

Buddy seemed to be glaring at her. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and held it over his bleeding nose. His blue eyes were icy and almost had an angry glint to them. "You're in my apartment, Ms. Parr. You've been here since yesterday night. You came over because you were paranoid about something. You... you fell asleep." He hesitated on the last sentence.

She didn't feel as though she'd just awoken from a peaceful sleep. She felt sick. Some of these symptoms she was feeling reminded her of something. Her eyes snapped open suddenly and she began to stammer. "Y-you! What did you do to me? I'm calling the police!" she exclaimed.

"What? Wait, what? What are you talking about, Violet? I didn't do anything to you!" Buddy's voice was nearly a squeak as he spoke to her.

"Don't give me that! Rohypnol! You raped me, you filthy son of a..." She trailed off when she noticed the complete bewilderment in her boss's eyes. He didn't seem to know what she was talking about.

He sat down on the couch slowly, still holding his rag to his bleeding nose. "Oh, Ms. Parr... I did no such thing." He looked at her so solemnly; so innocently. "I can't believe you would accuse me of that."

"I'm... sorry, you're right... That was uncalled for. But please, what happened to me? I know I didn't just fall asleep," Violet said. She felt bad for accusing him before she had any proof. "All these things I'm feeling, I've read about. They're date rape drug side effects."

She heard him groan. "Oh, I guess I have to tell you. You have to believe me, though, I didn't even lay a hand on you. It's just... the juice that I gave you... may have had flunitrazepam in it..."

"Exactly why did you give me that?" she demanded. Now she was suspicious again. Her eyes were narrowed and her fists were clenched.

He was twiddling his fingers, and fiddling with the bloodied handkerchief that was in his hands. She could now see the extent of damage she'd done. His nose wasn't broken, but it was sure bleeding profusely. There was a bit of swelling and a bruise forming. She was surprised. She didn't think she could hit that hard. His eyes were even watering. Violet was almost proud of herself.

"You know how I have a lot of enemies? There are people everywhere who want to see me dead, Ms. Parr," explained Buddy. "In my fridge I keep drinks that have these... quote unquote 'date rape drugs' in them. Just in case I know someone is here to try and kill me, despite being affable. Just give them the drink, they get knocked out, and I leave them somewhere outside of the city. It's for safety. I've even accidentally drank some myself a few times and missed very important meetings." He let out a nervous laugh.

Violet stared at him. "You know that's illegal, right?" she said.

"It's self defense, Vi, you've got to understand that!" Buddy said, his voice stressing and almost cracking. He seemed under a lot of pressure. "The things I've had to do to keep from dying..." He trailed off. "Please believe me. I meant you no harm, and I'll even get rid of the remaining tainted drinks I've got in the fridge."

She folded her arms over her chest. "I'm worried about you," she muttered. "To be honest with you, I think you might be a little neurotic."

"Who died and made you my therapist?" She heard him mutter under his breath. "Listen, Ms. Parr... let's never speak of this again. I promise, promise, _promise _you that I will never ever spike anyone's drink with drugs again." He made a boy scout sign with his hand. "Scout's honor."

Violet could here sincerity in his words, and she gave in. "Alright, I believe you," she said. "As long as you'll never do it again, I won't call the police. You do seem a bit paranoid, though, maybe you should see someone about that?"

"Says the girl who came to stay at my house because she was scared and didn't want to be alone."

"I had a very good reason, and I wasn't just being paranoid," she defended. "I really do have something to be afraid of. You, mister businessman, are paranoid. You just think everyone is out to get you because you're... rich, I guess."

Buddy flinched a little. "I work in a high-stakes world, little girl," he growled. "Now you do too. You're going to find out one way or another just how dangerous it is to be associated with me." This almost sounded like a threat instead of a warning.

"Alright, that's enough of this. We're not going to talk about this ever again, okay? This never happened." Violet didn't want to deal with this conversation any longer. Now she didn't think she could even feel safe around her own boss. "I'm also sorry for breaking your nose."

"It's not broken." He wiped away a little bit more blood with his handkerchief. "It's just won't stop bleeding for some reason. You sure can pack a punch, Violet." He stared at her after finishing his sentence.

She laughed a little. "Yeah, I guess I can. Pretty groovy, right?"

"I guess so," he replied. "Maybe I'd think it a little more groovy if I wasn't bleeding to death out my nostrils." He tilted his head back and let out a sigh. "Anyhow, we have to go to work. I'm promoting you. I don't know why, so don't ask me."

Violet looked at him excitedly. "Promoting me to what?" she asked.

"To... uh..." He couldn't think of anything she could do other than be a receptionist. "To my own personal secretary. You know, I can dictate letters to you and all that jazz."

"Don't you already have someone for that?" asked Violet. She thought of the platinum blond-haired woman that Buddy always seemed to be with. Was she going to take her place?

Buddy was once again staring at her, looked mildly confused. "Oh wait, you mean Mirage? Oh no, she's my personal assistant. She assists me... personally..." He paused for a moment. "That didn't seem to come out right."

"But doesn't she kind of have a secretary job already?" Violet insisted.

"No, she helps me arrange my schedule, takes notes for me, follows me around, helps me remember when to eat, reminds me when I have something to do, and so much more," Buddy said. "I mean, my life would pretty much fall apart without her. I'm so busy, you know? She just helps keep me together."

"That sounds like a big job," she murmured. For some reason she felt jealous, but she couldn't figure out why. "So what will I be doing?"

"Basically what you do now, except closer to me," he replied.

This didn't seem like too much of a promotion to Violet. It seemed more like he just wanted to keep an eye on her. She didn't know whether to find this creepy or flattering. Maybe he really did believe that she was in danger, and in that case it was a very kind thing to do. She couldn't help but think he had ulterior motives, though.

He looked up at the clock. "We've got to get moving. We're going to be late if we don't get into my car and rush down there. I hope we don't catch any traffic." Buddy got up off the couch and went over to his closet to grab his coat.

Violet got up and followed him. She felt dizzy, but there wasn't too much she could do about it. When she got to work, maybe she could have a drink of water. She hadn't eaten breakfast either. It didn't seem like today was going to be a very good day of work at all. At least she could potentially find out more about exactly what kind of business Buddy Pine was running.

-xx-

After work that night, Buddy Pine came home alone. His face was a little swollen, and this fact had been pointed out by almost every single person he'd come in contact with that day. This had put him in a rather sour mood. There was only one thing that could cheer him up now, and that was science.

When he had woke up that morning, he had placed the hair he'd collected from Violet in a plastic bag. He was going to examine her DNA until he figured out everything about her superpowers, provided she had them. He'd know her strengths, and her weaknesses, and her limitations.

He took out his science equipment and began his work. Hours upon hours went by as he tried to find exactly what was going on. Finally, he had figured out everything about the young lady... the young _super._

"Invisibility, possible ability to project force-fields of various sizes... this is just too good." He laughed as the results printed out on his computer. "Daddy's little girl, aren't you Violet Parr?"

He was almost still shaken up about what had happened this morning. Luckily he had managed to lie, and subtly bribe his way through it. Now his day was complete, and nothing was going to get him down after this. He had the greatest weapon in the entire world right in his hands, the daughter of his arch-enemy.

Now he just had to figure out what he was going to do with this weapon.

Buddy Pine had a plan. He'd had a plan for a while now. Now he had Violet, and his next step was getting her to join him in his plans. First of all he was going to have to fake his death, mostly to get away from this rotten job he'd been stuck with for years. He couldn't tell her, she was the moral type. Violet would never let him fake his death in peace.

He'd have to fool even her, and after he faked his death he would just have to convince her that it was for an extremely good cause and then distract her with all his big plans. She wouldn't even know what hit her with all he was going to do. Bang, bang, boom, Kronos II would be a success and Violet Parr would be an unwitting pawn in his deadly game of chess.

Buddy had to stifle an evil laugh.

-xx-

The next day, Violet found herself assigned to work with Carmina del Sol - the other half of the Pine-Sol duo. She seemed to be a rather serious woman, hardly cracking a smile or even showing any signs of emotion. She was almost robotic in the way that she functioned. Not a very warm person at all, so it seemed. But maybe it was just because she was displeased to be stuck showing a rookie how to do things.

"You'll be working right here, in this little cubicle," the Cuban woman was explaining. Her subtle accent could be heard on her words, every so often. It sounded very exotic and refined. "Get used to working in a box like this, you'll probably be spending most of your life in one."

This statement made Violet uncomfortable. She didn't want to be trapped in a little four-walled cubicle in the corner of her boss's enormous office. She'd heard enough complaints from her father, who had spent many years working in a cramped office space. Every night he'd come home and complain about how trapped he felt in there. She didn't want this to happen to her.

Still, she nodded and looked at what was going to be her desk. "So why is this a cubicle?" she asked. "I mean, why not just a normal desk in here? It seems strange to just put in a couple cubicles in Mr. Pine's office."

"He's a man who relishes his privacy. You'll have to learn to respect that if you want to continue working here," Carmina replied dryly.

Violet didn't think it was a good time to pry into why Buddy Pine wanted so much privacy, but she couldn't help but be curious about it. She simply had to ask, and no amount of willpower was going to stop her from blurting out what she had to say. "Why does he want so much privacy? Is he doing something he's not supposed to?" She regretted what she'd said immediately after.

Carmina del Sol stared at her for a couple of moments, but a sudden light came to her green eyes. It was as though she had suddenly remembered something, or thought of a brilliant idea. "Well, Ms. Parr," she began, "I didn't really want to tell anyone, but you seem like a nice... bright young girl."

Violet was both suspicious and flattered by the sudden compliment. "Thanks?" she said, her tone very uncertain.

"Yes. So, I'm going to let you in on a little secret. You have to promise that this will just be between the two of us, alright?" Carmina went on. Her posture and expression changed into that of a tragic, broken woman. "Our poor Mr. Buddy Pine has an awful illness... Oh, he would never want anyone to know, or want anyone to worry about him. It's affected his mood quite clearly, though, and I've seen him change right before my eyes. He's going to die and he knows it."

There was a silence, and Violet let out a slight gasp. So she had been wrong about her boss this entire time. He wasn't a bad guy, he was just struggling to deal with the fact that he was going to die. She had completely misjudged him, and now she felt horrible for it.

"W-what exactly does he have?" she asked, stammering through her sentence.

Carmina sighed. "We don't know. Not even the doctors know. He's in terrible shape, really though. He does his best to hide it, as you've seen. He still goes to work, still does his same old routine, but every day his body grows weaker and weaker."

"I'm so sorry!" exclaimed Violet. "I had no idea. Poor Buddy... I mean, Mr. Pine... This must be awful for him." She decided she would have to get him a card. Maybe a gift basket... no, maybe she'd bake him something homemade. She was going to pay him a cheer-up visit, that was for sure.

"He's not taking it very well. He doesn't want to lose everything he's worked for. He doesn't even know who he's going to give the company to after he's gone. He's been working on a will. As far as I know he has no living relatives," Carmina continued. Her lip was quivering, but it almost seemed forced. _Almost_.

Violet wasn't sure why Buddy's personal assistant would fake emotion like this, but maybe she just secretly didn't like him. She let it slide, focusing more on what she would do to comfort her sick boss.

Footsteps resounded in the office, and Buddy came in holding a few file folders to his chest. He looked forlorn, almost distant. "So you told her," he murmured to Carmina. "I thought I said we weren't going to let this out."

Carmina turned around, surprised. "Mr. Pine!" she exclaimed. "I had no idea you were here... I'm sorry, I just felt she deserved to know."

He sighed and put his hand to his head, running his fingers through his red hair. "That's alright, I understand. You're dismissed now, Mirage. I'll take it from here."

Violet felt a little sick to her stomach. She hadn't been expected to be caught like this. She knew information she wasn't supposed to know. That made her feel like such a bad person. She was shocked, however, when Buddy didn't seem to be upset but rather extended his arms and moved in for a hug.

She hesitantly returned the embrace. It was a little awkward to be hugged by her boss, even if they had been out on a date before. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know you were ill," she muttered to him. "All the things I've done, and getting mad at you... oh, please forgive me."

"Violet... Vi... It's alright." His voice was smooth, so relaxing and gentle. "But please, you've got to promise not to tell anyone."

"I promise, Mr. Pine. I won't breathe a word of this to anyone. I understand, you value your privacy. I'm sure you don't want the papers, and the paparazzi, and all those journalists to come hounding after you if they found out. Not at a time like this." Violet looked up at him through saddened eyes. She truly felt very sorry for him. Sympathy was washing over her in waves. "How long do you have?"

Buddy looked off into the distance, out the window, at the cityscape. "I don't know. I feel so sick all the time, so weak. I never wanted to feel this way. I could die at any given moment. Drop dead on the streets, die in my sleep... I don't want to go, Violet..."

She shook her head, barely being able to say anything. This was getting far too emotional for her comfort. Much to her surprise and dismay, tears were starting to well up in her eyes. "You don't deserve this," she whimpered. "I'm sorry, I have to go use the lady's room." Without another word she walked off, her high heels clicking on the hard floor.

As soon as she was gone, Carmina entered Buddy's office. "Job well done I presume, sir?" she said.

"Give me a high five, Mirage. You're my number one girl. What ever would I do without you?" Buddy said gleefully, lifting up his hand. There was a pause between the both of them. "Come on, Mirage, don't leave me hanging."

Hesitantly, his personal assistant reached up and gave him a very half-hearted high five.

"That was weak," grumbled Buddy.

"You know I hated to lie to that poor girl," Mirage said, folding her arms over her chest. "If I weren't such a - such a coward, I would really have the government kick your sorry ass." Her eyes were burning with such an intense fury.

He simply rolled his.

"Listen, everything I am doing is for my own good and for the good of the whole world," Buddy said. "You'll get used to it. I know, I know, you've never played the bad guy before. But it's fun. So fun. And the ends justify the means, you know? Believe me, everything will pay off in the end and soon we'll see a world where... where crime doesn't exist, and where everyone gets along in peace and harmony... and where _everyone _is equal... and where _everyone _has _super-powers_." His voice had started out pleasant, and ended in what could only be described as a vengeful growl.

Carmina turned away from him. "A world without crime sounds wonderful to me, but I just wish we didn't have to _commit _so many crimes in order to abolish them."

Buddy just stared at her. He narrowed his bright blue eyes, and gripped his opposite arm with his right hand. "It'll all work out. You just wait and see." He walked back to his desk and sat down. "Wait... and... _see_."

-xx-

Violet had barely been able to get through her work for the rest of the day. All she could think about was how grossly she had misjudged her boss. Here he was, every day being tormented, and she just thought he was being a complete and total creep. How impolite of her. She threw her purse down on the couch, and then threw herself down as well.

Her roommate Mimi walked into the room, holding a bag of chips that she was munching as she walked. "Hey Violet. Why the long face?" she asked, noticing that there was something wrong with the young girl.

"Mimi... I'm afraid I've been an awful person," Violet murmured.

There was a cushy puff sound as Mimi sat down on the couch next to her, offering her bag of chips to the depressed young woman. Violet shook her head and passed on the opportunity to eat them. "You're a wonderful girl, Vi, why do you think you've been an awful person?" inquired Mimi.

"You know my boss, Buddy Pine? Don't tell anyone, but he's... he's dying of something awful," she muttered.

Mimi's expression became very serious. "Is it the AIDS?" she asked.

"No, um, no well I don't know. I don't really think so, I mean, he's not really into... that kind of... Well at least I don't think he... is..." She trailed off, not knowing what else to say. "The doctors don't know what's wrong with him, according to his personal assistant."

"That's terrible, Violet, but how does this make you an awful person?" Mimi looked genuinely bewildered.

"It's because I... I might have mistook his emotions about him dying for him being a paranoid jerk," she sighed. "I feel really bad about it, too. I yelled at him and everything. He was just so aloof, and so bitter... I thought he was just being a rich, arrogant man but he was really just dealing with his feelings over his problems."

"Oh, Violet, I'm sure he's not holding it against you or anything. I mean, you didn't even know. It's not your fault, hon." Mimi gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder. "How were you supposed to know that he was really sick?"

"You're right, Mimi. I didn't really know, but I still - well, you know, I just still feel kind of bad. I want to do something nice for him. Do you think he would appreciate it if I made him a cake or something and brought it over to his house?" Violet asked her friend.

Mimi's eyes lit up at the word 'cake'. "Honey, _anyone _would appreciate having someone with a cake show up at their door. I say go for it." She paused. "And if he doesn't like it, maybe you could bring it back to your old pal Mimi?"

Violet laughed, feeling a little better because of her roommate's antics. "Alright, sounds good. I'm going to work on that now. Maybe I'll go over to his house tonight. Do you think he would mind?"

"A pretty girl like you showing up on his doorstep with a cake?" Mimi laughed. "He'd be an idiot if he minded that."

Smiling, Violet went into the kitchen to bake. She was really going to cheer her boss up this time. Maybe... just maybe she could even get him to go on a date with her. Sort of a do-over for the previous mess of one they'd had. Sure, he was going to die, but he deserved someone to be right there for him until the bitter end.

And Violet Parr was determined to be that someone.

**A/N: **_You can almost make a game out of counting the unintentional rhymes in this chapter. Took me a while to write this, had a lot of things going on. I'm not very good at regularly updating things. :( Bad me._


	7. Brilliant Mind

**7**

"_You must be out of your brilliant mind."_

Brilliant Mind by Furniture

Buddy Pine was close to falling asleep on the couch. He had the remote to the television in his hand, and his head on the pillow. His eyes were drooping, nearly closing. His mouth was partially hanging open as he watched the colorful images on the television. He wasn't really absorbing anything that was going on. He was just staring at blurring pictures going by.

Just as he was about to drift off to sleep, a knock on the door jolted him away. He reached underneath the couch cushion for his pistol, and held it shakily in his hand. His heart was pounding so loud he could nearly hear it in his ears. He got up and tentatively approached the door. He stared out the peep hole, trying to catch a glimpse of who was there.

"Who is it?" he rasped.

"Violet Parr, sir," came the reply.

He confirmed this, looking at her through the hole in the door. She was standing there, holding a cake box in her hands and smiling. He didn't remember it being his birthday. In fact, he was certain that it wasn't his birthday at all. That was in August. It was November.

Nonetheless, he was curious to see what was going on so he opened the door and let her inside.

"Miss Parr, to what do I owe the pleasure?" he said. His voice was dreary. He was still tired even though the knock on the door had been rather like a shot of caffeine to his system.

Violet walked inside, looking around briefly at her surroundings. She was acting like she was only seeing his apartment for the first time, even though she had been there before. She walked over to the counter, seeming to briefly ignore his question. When she had set the cake box down she turned back to him.

"I brought you this," she replied. "I made if for you because..." She paused, looking down at her feet sheepishly. "Because I thought you might need something to cheer you up."

"Cheer me up?" echoed Buddy. He couldn't think of a reason why he needed cheering up. Bewilderment was shining clear in his sky blue eyes.

"Yes, you know, because you're um... dying and all," Violet was speaking slowly, nearly stammering her words. She seemed almost embarrassed to even be speaking to him.

It took him a moment to process what was going on. He didn't remember anything about dying until it finally struck him. Violet was referring to the lie he had asked Mirage to tell. He chuckled to himself. His plan was working. Violet had believed every word of it, and was taking it so seriously as to come over to pay him a friendly visit because of it.

He gave a slow hand-wave. "Of course that. I was trying to forget about that. Thank you for bringing it up." Buddy was trying to play the 'doesn't want your sympathy' character. Callous businessman; too proud for a young girl's charity. "What exactly did you bring me?"

"It's a cake," Violet said. She opened the box. "Think of this also as sort of an apology gift. I just wanted to say I was sorry for the times that I may have misinterpreted your actions and got upset at you for it."

"Oh, Miss Parr you shouldn't have," he murmured. "I mean, you really shouldn't have. I don't need this from you. I also don't eat cakes that people bring me because there's always the possibility they might be..." Buddy trailed off, seeing sadness in Violet's indigo eyes. He couldn't risk alienating her by keeping up this hard shell of a personality. He had to be a jerk with a heart of gold. "Poisoned." He finished his sentence nonetheless.

He saw her going to the cake to pick it up and carry it back home with her. "Well, maybe Mimi will want a piece of it..."

"But in your case, I will make an exception," he added quickly. He rushed forward to stop her from leaving, putting one hand on the cake box. "I mean, I can't imagine my own secretary trying to poison me. Well sure, it's happened a couple times before, but I trust _you_."

This seemed to mean a lot to Violet. "You do?" she said happily.

"I do," he confirmed.

"Here, I'll get some plates and cut us some slices if that's alright with you," she said. She wandered over to the cabinets and took out some of the stark white dishes. She paused and looked around the kitchen for a moment. "Where is your utensil drawer?"

Buddy had been nearly drifting off to sleep again, standing up. Her voice snapped him back into reality. "Oh, here let me get it," he said. He walked over and pulled out a knife and two forks. "Do you want me to get you some milk to drink? I promise this time there's no Rohypnol in it." He seemed amused by his statement, but she seemed less so.

"I think I'll pass, unless you're having some too," Violet said. She was going to err on the side of caution this time, that was clear.

"I was going to," he said. He walked over to the refrigerator as he spoke, grabbing a couple of glasses from a dish rack along the way. "Really, it's not going to have anything in it. I would never... not after I promised."

Violet started to slice the cake, cutting a modest piece for her and for Buddy. "If that's the case, then fine I'll have some." She placed the pieces on the dishes and admired her work. "Is this going to be enough for you?"

He looked back over his shoulder. "Yeah, that's enough." His slice of cake was in fact more than enough. He didn't actually think he was going to be able to eat it all, after the dinner and the dessert he had already had when out to eat that night.

With a glass of milk in each hand, he went to sit at the counter bar where she had put the cake. He gave one to her and placed the other by his dish. "It's been a long time since I've had anything home-made," he said. "Assuming this is home-made, of course."

"It is!" she said proudly. "I didn't even use a box mix or anything. My roommate Mimi helped, though. She knows a lot more about cooking than I do."

He smiled at her as he took a bite. The cake wasn't all that bad. He'd had better, of course, because he could afford better. But it was a nice gesture and he pretended as though it was the best damn thing he had ever eaten in his entire life. "Oh, wow, Miss Parr this is really good," he said with his mouth full, purposefully forsaking manners for praise.

"You really think so?" she said. She seemed very pleased that she had been able to do something to cheer him from his depressive slump of dying slowly.

Though he was getting quite stuffed, he forced himself to shove down a couple more bites of the cake for her sake. "Absolutely. You could be a chef if you wanted to. I'd miss you working for me, though, so I hope you don't decide to be one."

"Work... that's something I wanted to talk to you about. When you die... who's going to get the company from you? Family? The vice president? Miss Del Sol?" Violet seemed genuinely curious, though Buddy knew that if he had actually been dying he would have found this slightly insensitive.

An idea was hatching in his mind, however. It could be one of the most brilliant, strategic things he'd done yet. That or it could end in complete and utter disaster. Either way, he knew he would have to try it out.

"Violet, you know I trust you a whole lot, right?" he said. "Even though we've not known each other so long, and blah blah blah all that nonsense about just having met earlier this month, but for some reason I feel like you've been my best friend my whole life."

Violet stopped eating temporarily, seeming barely able to process the words she was hearing. "Really?" she asked, with a little bit of cake falling out the side of her mouth. Her eyebrows were raised in questioning.

"Of course, really." Buddy reassured her and then leaned towards her, putting his arms on the counter in front of him. "Listen, I don't really have anyone to give my company to. No family, or at least no family that I associate with. My vice president is a nut, and would never be able to successfully run my company. As for Carmina, oh she's a doll, but I don't think she's got what it takes to run Syncorporated."

He noticed that Violet was listening intently, her eyes wide open as she took in every word he was saying.

He went on, "But _you_, Violet, you're different. You're a smart, strong independent girl. You've got a good head on your shoulders, you look like you know how to take charge and... well, frankly I don't know what you're doing as a simple secretary. You know what? The company, my money, my properties, all of it... when I die, it's yours."

There was a clatter as Violet's fork fell out of her hand and onto the floor. Her mouth was wide open, and she began to stammer. "W-well I don't know if I could... I mean, thank you, but no... I couldn't possibly ever run - I mean the responsibilities and all I... I don't have what it takes to run a..."

"Nonsense," Buddy said, cutting her off abruptly. "You have what it takes and more. It's easier than it looks. You'll have people to do things for you, you've just got to make sure they do what gets done and you make certain important decisions. I'm not going to let my company be run by some board, or shareholders or whatever nonsense. Syncorporated needs someone like you... _I _need someone like you." He knew the last bit was corny, but he couldn't help but throw it in.

She was staring at him through wide eyes. "You really think I could handle something like that?" she asked. She seemed doubtful, almost as though she were ready for him to psych her out. "You're not kidding?"

"No, I'm completely serious," he said. "You must think I'm out of my mind, but let me assure you while I am in poor physical condition, my brain still works just fine. I'm a genius, I know what I'm doing." He was disappointed in how much it was taking just to convince her that she was good enough to run the company. Anyone else would have probably jumped for joy. Besides, with what he was planning she wouldn't even need to run the company. He'd run it all by proxy. Too bad she didn't know that.

Violet put her hand against her head. "I barely know what to say. This is all too much."

"A simple thank you would suffice," muttered Buddy. "I am making you rich and famous, after all."

"Yes, thank you. Thank you so much," she exclaimed. "I'm sorry, I was just caught up in everything. This is all so... I don't even know. I thought I was going to make it big in New York, but not this big."

He smiled. "Surprise, surprise then. You're going to be bigger than you ever imagined."

She leaned over and gave him a tight hug. He blinked and hesitated for a moment, just a little bit surprised, but soon wrapped his arms around her and returned it. He wasn't exactly expecting her to kiss him, though, and when she did just that he could barely keep his thoughts in line.

He could only think of how sweet this was, but at the same time he was trying to convince himself not to fall for her. After all, if he loved her it would be difficult to manipulate her. Difficult, not impossible, but he just might feel - _guilty _- about it, and who would ever want that?

This went on for a good fifteen seconds before Violet pulled back. Awestruck by this gesture of affection, all Buddy could do was give a head tilt.

"What have I done?" he heard Violet murmur. She was looking away shyly, nervously semi-wringing her hands. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Why are you sorry? I mean, really, it's okay," Buddy said. He reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. "It's just a kiss." It didn't mean anything. "There's no need to be so upset." Just a kiss, nothing special. He kept repeating this in his mind.

Violet just sighed. "I shouldn't have been so forward, I mean... oh, you probably don't even like me that way. Even if you did, I mean - you're going to die soon, this just isn't good at all."

Buddy knew he had to think of something to make her calm down. Maybe manipulating her would be even easier if she were in love with _him_. As long as he could keep himself from developing feelings for her, this was a pretty sweet deal. Of course he had to kiss her. There was no point in letting her lose sleep from unrequited feelings.

So kiss her he did, and with far more passion than she had put into the first. He pulled her close to him and she reached up and draped her arms over his shoulders. Buddy ran his fingers through her silky black hair. He could practically feel her heart beating as he guided her closer to him.

A sharp knock on the door interrupted the moment.

Buddy grumbled. "Stay back over here, I have to make sure it's not someone who will hurt me, or you." He edged over to the door, pistol drawn again. It was far too late to be receiving too many visitors.

There was a familiar looking face when he looked through the peep hole, but it wasn't exactly anyone he wanted to see right now. He knew Violet had gone through his files in his office, and she would also recognize this assassin from the day he had unexpectedly stopped by the Syncorporated headquarters for an important discussion. He was still wearing the jumpsuit with the AC patch on it. Very conspicuous. This guy wasn't one for subtlety.

He groaned inwardly. He turned back to look at Violet, who seemed to still be in a daze from their kiss.

Buddy opened the door just a crack. "What are you doing here? You show up at the wrong places, at all the wrong times," he spat. "How did you even find me?

"I have an important report to give to you," the man said in his thick accent. "I had to track you down so that we could speak about it. Let me in."

"I'm... I'm busy," Buddy insisted. He looked back to Violet again, gritting his teeth. "I have someone over. Now is not a good time."

The assassin rolled his eyes. "Tell them to leave."

"No! You get out of here," Buddy growled.

"Fine. I will wait out here until you get rid of whoever you have over here. But I am not going to leave. I will give you as much time as you need," he said. He was not about to give up. His eyes were glowing with a dark determination.

Buddy glared at him, nearly trembling with stressful frustration. "_Fine_," he spat viciously. "Fine, I'll get her to leave. I'll have you know I was in the middle of something very important. I'm paying you, you know. You should do things on my terms. I could fire you."

The assassin just shrugged. "So?"

"I hate you."

Buddy slammed the door and walked back over to Violet. She was still acting like a lovestruck puppy. He gently took her by the shoulders and shook her back and forth just a little bit. "Speak to me, Vi."

"Hi," Violet said, seeming a little loopy.

This flattered Buddy. He didn't know he was such a romantic, or such a good kisser. Or maybe Violet just wasn't used to this sort of thing. She seemed like a pretty shy girl. Either way, before things could go any further, she was going to have to leave so that he could speak with an assassin. It was quite a let down.

He shook her again. "Listen, I've got to get some sleep so that I can function well tomorrow. You should probably go home and get some sleep as well."

When he looked into her eyes he could see disappointment. Her facial expression fell almost immediately. "What did I do wrong?" he heard her murmur quietly to herself.

Buddy gritted his teeth just a little. "Hey, listen Violet, sweetheart," he said, quietly and softly. "This isn't because of you. I have a work related problem that I have to take care of. You should know. I'm a busy man, I always am."

This didn't seem to reassure her much. With drooping posture, she began to walk towards the door. He walked behind her and placed a hand on the back of her shoulder. "You're a beautiful girl, Violet. In different circumstances, you and I could have been something amazing," he assured her. "Believe me. Someday you'll make some lucky guy very, very happy."

Violet turned around and smiled at him. There were glistening tears in her eyes. She wrapped her arms around him and gave him a tight hug. "Thanks for everything. You're an amazing, nice guy," she said.

"This isn't the end of it, Violet. No matter what happens, you can count on me. I'll be there for you, even when it seems like a lost cause," Buddy whispered. "_Everyone_ needs someone to count on, and I will never let you down."

"I love you," she said.

"I love you too, Violet."

She didn't say another word, and he watched as she walked out the door, shutting it behind her.

Moments passed before the man from the Assassin Corporation came in. He shoved the cake Violet had made to the side and slammed down some files on the counter-top. In bright red stamped letters, the word 'terminated' was printed on the side of each one of them. Buddy picked it up and flicked through it, his smile growing progressively as he did.

"Brilliant," he said, a light shining in his eyes. "This phase of my project is complete. Excellent work. You'll be receiving payment from me soon."

The assassin seemed very pleased with this. "One question I have," he said. "Why did you request certain... supers... to be left off the list? Surely if you're planning some global domination you wouldn't want anyone to stand in your way."

"It's not about that," Buddy growled. He stared at the pictures of the fallen heroes, whose deaths he had paid for. "This is revenge. I have my own personal reason for not destroying..." He trailed off as he came to the next folder. "Why is Elastigirl's file not marked as terminated?"

"Oh yes, that," the assassin said. "We thought you did not want her to be killed, her being the wife of Mr. Incredible who you specifically requested not be killed."

His voice filled with disbelief, Buddy let out a very flat, "What?"

"You did not know? She's Elastigirl, she lives as Helen Parr now. I'm sorry, I thought you knew this. I will have her taken out in two shakes of a lamb's tail."

"No!" exclaimed Buddy harshly. "No, no leave her alive. I have different plans. Don't touch anyone related to him, none of his family members. I need them all to be alive." He clutched Elastigirl's file with intensity. "You're dismissed now. But just a tip for next time - you don't interrupt me, or I may have to have a certain assassin assassinated." He growled and practically threw the files down into his file shredder. "Now get out."

The assassin sneered and exited. Buddy locked the doors behind the man, and walked towards his bedroom. Very soon his plans would come to fruit. Just a few more things to take care of, and _Syndrome _would soon be the name on the mind of everyone in the country... or perhaps the entire world.

-xx-

Large amounts of money were all it took to convince several important people to go along with Buddy's plan. He sat back in his office chair, pleased as he ended his last phone call. Faking his death would be a breeze, as long as no one he'd bribed decided to be a loudmouth. Of course, he could easily take care of them if he caught wind that they were going to rat him out.

He reached up slowly and touched his bright orange hair, almost stiff with the hairspray he'd used to put it up in its flame-like style. He could see his reflection in the glass desk, and he smiled. He looked so powerful. Just like a superhero.

"You can't give the company to her," a voice echoed around the office.

He turned to see Mirage standing there, eyes narrowed in displeasure. She walked towards him and practically threw the files she was carrying down onto his desk. He stared up at her passively.

"Oh really?" he said, very nonchalant, trying to hide the smirk on his face. "Watch me."

"You should be passing your company to me. Why would you give it to her? I could do a better job taking care of it while you're doing... whatever the hell you're doing," Mirage's expression was one of cold fury as she spoke. "Have you lost what little sanity you had left?"

Buddy stretched his arms out and put his feet up on his desk. "Relax, I know what I'm doing. Believe me, my plan is perfect."

"What is your plan?" she asked. She continued to stare at him, her arms folded.

"Violet's an easy kid to manipulate. She trusts too much, too easily. I want to run my company by proxy through her due to the simplicity of it all. If I can convince her to work for me on one level, I can do it on any level. She'll be my little human super weapon." He grinned, spinning his chair back and forth just a tad as he explained his plan.

Mirage didn't seem convinced that this was a good idea. "Why can't you run your company by proxy through me?" she asked.

"Because, Mirage, you're smart. You're smart and I can't control you very well. You are not easy to manipulate, not like Violet is. She's young, she's naive, and she's in a big city practically on her own. You're an experienced, intelligent woman and you barely put up with me. Why would I put my company in the hands of someone like you?" he explained.

There was a silence between them.

"Fair enough," Mirage said after a while. "I can see how you would rather Violet Parr be in charge than me. Will you ever be returning to the company after you fake your death, someday?"

"No," Buddy responded, almost growling the word. "I will never go back to this. I have bigger and better things to do. I will leave a mark on this world, I will be a god among men - and _powerful_."

Mirage sighed, "As though you aren't already." She picked her files back off of his desk, and started to walk away. Buddy reached up and grabbed her arm, looking at her through piercing blue eyes.

"Don't think that I don't appreciate you. Without you, my life would be in shambles. You have done so many things to forward my plans, and so many things to make every day easier for me," Buddy said to her. He needed to make sure that she was on his side. He needed to reassure her that she was still his number one girl. He stood up and turned her around, and kissed her softly.

Her eyes widened and she pushed him away. "It's not going to be like this anymore. I'm finished with you, you know that. I only work for you. I'm your personal assistant, nothing more." She turned away from him. "I don't approve of what you're doing. The lies, the plans, and all of the killing. I fear you. That's what's keeping me here. Nothing else."

Buddy's eyes narrowed as she walked out of the room. "You're making a mistake," he said quietly. "The biggest mistake of your life."

Her last words as she walked away from him, "I beg to differ."

-xx-

Violet wandered across the apartment in her robe and slippers. She smelled coffee in the air, but she didn't stop for it. Her first task was to get the morning paper, like she usually did. She opened the door and picked it up, yawning as she brought it inside. She went back in and sat down on the paper, flipping it over to take a look at it.

When she saw the headlining article, her eyes went wide. It read: 'CEO of Syncorporated dead.' Her heart nearly skipped a beat. She went reading, but a specific part of the article caught her eye.

_Buddy Pine was taken to the hospital in critical condition. After a few hours spent fighting a losing battle, he was pronounced dead. A spokesperson for the company issued a statement saying, "Last minute, Mr. Pine left his wealth and company to one of his trusted employees. Our legal team is looking into this to guarantee that there was no foul play involved."_

Had he really been serious? Was such a large company now in her hands? All sorts of thoughts were running through her head, but they were trumped by a certain emotion... the overwhelming feeling of sadness.

Tears began to roll down her cheeks, and she slid the paper aside. She pressed her face against the table and started sobbing. He had loved her, trusted her - even with his beloved corporation. She didn't know where she was going to go from here. All she knew was that the world was going to suffer from losing such a brilliant mind, and that she was going to suffer right along with them.

**A/N: **_I love how the site decided to remove all the scene breaks from the previous chapters. I will have to fix this. Also, I apologize for the inaccuracies regarding subways. Should have done the research before I wrote instead of finding out afterwards. Oopsie. XP_


	8. Forgive And Forget

**8**

"_The look on your face gave the game away... I just can't forgive and forget."_

- (I Just Can't) Forgive and Forget by Blue Zoo

Thunder rumbled in the distance as mourners gathered around an open grave. Dark, ominous clouds rolled overhead, threatening rain. A priest stood with a Bible in hand, watching as a coffin was lowered into the ground. Behind the solemn faces of the individuals dressed in black, different reactions were had. Violet scanned the crowd, her eyes darting back and forth, trying to read the poker faces of the people who had come to pay their last respects to Buddy Pine.

She thought for a moment she saw someone smirk. One woman had her gloved hand over her mouth, clearly trying to hide a smile or even laughter. These were no friends of Mr. Pine, that much was clear. To her left she saw Carmina del Sol quietly observing, her expression stone cold and her green eyes dull. Standing next to her was a man, sunglasses on his face despite the fact that the sun wasn't out. Clenched fists, nearly gritting his teeth, and just the slightest strand of brilliant red hair peaking out from under his fedora.

Violet could have sworn she'd nearly had a heart attack. Was she seeing Buddy's ghost, or just some guy who happened to be similar to him? She didn't say anything, she just turned as the priest began the service.

"This afternoon we are gathered here to celebrate and remember the life of Buddy Pine: a humanitarian, hard worker, and a good friend to many. The Lord giveth, the Lord taketh away. Let us pray." As the priest continued, Violet saw men beginning to shovel the first coverings of dirt into the grave. They weren't going to completely bury the coffin until everyone had gone, it was purely ceremonial.

"Forasmuch as it hath pleased Almighty God of his great mercy to take unto himself the soul of our dear brother here departed, we therefore commit his body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust..."

A sudden sob from one of the mourners jolted Violet. Rain was beginning to fall. A few of those gathered began to look up at the sky in annoyance. She did the same, but without the same grimace of irritation on her face. She let the rain mix with the tears that were beginning to fall from her eyes.

When she looked back down, she saw that the group was beginning to disperse before the service had even ended, simply due to a change in the weather. She felt a bit offended by this. Why would these people come to a funeral just to act like jerks? They'd probably only come to make themselves look better, but they weren't fooling her. They didn't care a bit.

She stayed until the only ones remaining beside her were the man in the fedora and Carmina. The cold winter rain was beginning to pour even harder now, slowly turning into sleet. Snowflakes were beginning to mingle with the drops, and Violet was becoming soaked to the bone.

"Come on, Miss Parr," Carmina said to her, taking her by the hand. "We can't let you catch pneumonia out here. You're an important woman now, and heaven forbid anything happen to you." Violet found herself practically being dragged away, towards a limo that was parked near the cemetery gate.

She took one look back at Buddy Pine's grave, and at the man who was still standing beside it. She saw him toss a deep red rose into the hole, and walk in the opposite direction with his hands in his trench-coat pockets. Perhaps this was one of the relatives Buddy had mentioned having, but not speaking to.

After having been practically shoved into the limousine, Violet took a moment to wring out her damp black hair, much to Carmina's dismay.

"Do you need a towel, miss?" grumbled the personal assistant.

Violet wasn't used to people asking to do things for her, so this came as a mild surprise. "Sure, if it's not too much trouble," she said. She could see Carmina struggling to keep from laughing at this.

She was handed a small, soft towel that still had the initials 'BP' embroidered into it. Violet stared at it for a moment. It was practically the softest thing she'd touched, and she was hesitant to use it to dry her hair with.

"We'll order you a new set of personalized towels, don't worry," Carmina said, misinterpreting Violet's hesitance. "In the meantime, you'll just have to settle for these."

Violet blinked. "Oh no, these are wonderful. You don't have to do that if you –"

"You are going to be very bad at being rich, aren't you?" Violet heard Carmina mumble, and it made her instantly feel bad.

"So... okay, new towels then," Violet said, placing the towel on her head and rubbing it against her hair until most of the wet was gone. She was left with a spiky, unkempt-looking mess of hair, to which she was blissfully unaware due to the lack of a mirror.

Carmina looked amused. "New towels, yes. You'll also be moving into Mr. Pine's old apartment, as he left it to you in his will. That is, unless you want to use some of your ridiculous amounts of money. Syncorporated is the third largest company in the entire world, you can practically have anything you want within reason."

"I know nothing about running a company, let alone the third largest company in the world," Violet admitted with a sigh. "You'll help me, won't you, Miss del Sol?"

"Call me Mirage," Carmina said. "Believe me, you'll have help. Running this company will be a breeze. Tomorrow you get to meet Mick Boswell, the vice president. You'll hate him, we all do. He's in a sour mood, too, because he figured he'd be the one to get the company after Mr. Pine died. He never even had a chance. Mr. Pine always hated him."

"Oh... that sounds like... fun?" Violet said, twiddling her fingers as she did.

Mirage once again had a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. "I'm here to make sure that nothing goes wrong, miss. Whenever you need me, I'll be there. I'll help you with your paperwork, scheduling, anything you want me to do. I am your personal assistant."

"This is all going so fast," groaned Violet. She curled her feet up on the seat and pouted. "Why did he have to go and die like this? Why did he give me this company? I can't do this."

"Well, we wouldn't want Mr. Boswell running the company, so I'd appreciate it if you would stick around," Mirage sighed. She reached out and patted Violet on the shoulder. "I promise you, I will not let you get overwhelmed."

Violet frowned. "But Buddy was always overwhelmed."

"It could have been worse, plus he has a low stress threshold, and to be honest with you I think he had a few... issues." Mirage's speech had grown more relaxed. She didn't seem to be the uptight professional Violet had taken her to be. She seemed rather personable, in fact. "It seems that with genius comes insanity."

"I don't think he was insane, he just seemed really under pressure," Violet said. She didn't want to believe that her dead boss had mental health problems, nor did she want to speak ill of the dead. He was simply an overworked, stressed-out man whose health problems were weighing on his mind so much that it made him temperamental. She paused for a moment, trying to think of a topic of conversation."So... how did you first meet him?"

Carmina stretched and leaned back against her seat. "It was a long time ago. He came to me sort of a broken man, apparently he had some sort of a plan that had fallen through completely. A business plan, maybe? He never told me. He was a mess, he looked like he hadn't slept in days. He saw my ad in the paper, and explained to me how he needed someone to help him out. He was going to start a company. I was near broke, and this seemed to be a good opportunity for me. I accepted right away."

She turned and looked out the window, growing a bit distant. "I fell for him after a while. We had a fling. I had hoped one day he'd decide that he cared about me enough to enter a serious relationship. But it wasn't me he cared for, it was his work. The day he told me he loved me was the day I told him no. I had a few regrets, but it worked out in the end. It turns out we were better off as colleagues, and I decided that no matter how hard he tried to win me over, we were going to stay strictly professional." There was a faint look of sadness in her eyes, and she sighed briefly before turning back to Violet. "But that was the past, and we must keep moving forward."

Violet looked at her with sympathy. Despite her somewhat cold exterior, Mirage seemed to be a genuinely nice person who'd been through her fair share of trouble. "I'm really sorry about all that," she said. "Sounds like one big mess."

"Hm, you're right, it was," Mirage said. The limousine came to a halt outside the apartment where Buddy Pine had lived. "Now, I'm assigning you two bodyguards. There are people who _will _target you. There are rivals who have wanted to see this company go under for a long time."

"Wait a second... he was serious about that?" Violet could hardly believe what she was hearing. So Buddy hadn't just been paranoid, there really had been people out to kill him and destroy everything he had worked of. Even worse, now they would be out to get her. She bit her lower lip, and looked around in fright. At least she had one thing Buddy Pine hadn't had: superpowers. She could protect herself if her bodyguards failed by turning invisible, or throwing up a force-field.

Mirage put one hand to her mouth. "Oh dear... I didn't want to worry you or anything. Believe me, it will all be alright. Nothing bad ever happened to Mr. Pine – at least nothing caused by anyone who was targeting him. The apartment has been cleaned out and straightened up, it's ready to move into without any problems. All of his possessions are in a private storage facility." She reached out and gave Violet a comforting pat on the knee. "You're in good hands, Violet. Believe me."

She gave the apartment keys to Violet, who took them slowly and stared at them. "I still can't believe all of this is happening," she murmured. "I haven't even had time to call my parents and tell them."

"Get some rest. Tomorrow we're going to introduce you to your vice president. Be warned, he's not going to welcome you with open arms," Mirage said.

Violet nodded and stepped out of the car. She looked up at the huge apartment building and sighed. She still couldn't process the fact that her life had just taken a dramatic turn. Sleep would help to calm her nerves. Slowly she walked into the building, trying to prepare herself for a new life.

-x-

Mirage had come promptly to pick up Violet in the morning. They rode together to the headquarters, and walked inside the building. They stood in the elevator, and Mirage helped to straighten out Violet's outfit and make her look as professional as possible. Violet's hair was done up in a bun, and she wore an outfit similar to Mirage's. She wore a white blouse and a dark gray pencil skirt with a matching blazer.

The elevator doors opened and they stepped across the hall. Violet reached out and opened the door. The office was dark, with only a little light streaming in through the window on the side. The desk was mahogany, and the carpet was a shade of dark burgundy. It was very dim, and rather cave-like.

Sitting behind the desk, copper colored eyes staring with a dark, seething rage behind them, was the top vice president himself. His hair was a medium-blond color, teased up just a little with a swoop to the side. He had to have been in his mid-thirties, he didn't look much older than that. He was dressed in a neat business suit, and personal hygiene seemed to be an important thing to him. Violet could smell his expensive aftershave from across the room.

"Why if it isn't the little _bitch_ who acquired the company instead of me," Mick Boswell sneered, his teeth creating an audible, sharp noise as he gritted them. "I deserved it, not some little girl. I've worked here for _years_." He slammed his hands down onto the table. "What did you do, little Violet Parr? Sleep with him? That's what it took to get the company, isn't it? Damn it, I knew I should have tried that myself!"

Violet was taken aback by the hostile greeting. She had been expected Mr. Boswell to be a little disgruntled, but he had no idea the man was this power hungry and vicious.

Mirage coolly stared him down. "This 'little girl', as you call her, is your boss now. I don't think I have to remind you that she can fire you." She turned to Violet and smiled. "In fact, I'd go so far as to advise your termination."

"Shut up, Carmina! You act like you're so great just because you used to be Pine's girlfriend. I am invaluable to this company!" The vice president spat, tossing a whole stack of papers off of his desk in one swoop of his hand. "I didn't get to where I am today by following him around like a lost puppy dog. I do real work. Oh, Pine may have been the brains, but I have always been the _beating_, _pulsing_, _throbbing_ heart of this _stinking_ company!" His voice boomed so loudly that Violet could have sworn people in the building across the street could hear him.

She was genuinely intimidated by this man. Through worried indigo eyes, she looked up at Mirage who still kept her cool. This gave her new-found confidence. If Mirage could stand up to Boswell, so could she.

Violet crossed her arms. "That's right, I am your boss and I can fire you. I'm sure there are other employees here who deserve your position more than you do. You're crazy." Her voice was slightly warbling, but she tried to steady it and not show fear.

What she had said only seemed to anger Mick Boswell even more. He took in a deep breath and sat back down in his chair. "Rest assured if I were anything other than a valuable asset to this company, I would have been fired years ago," he said. "As you may know, Pine and I didn't exactly get along. Well, we did at first... until little miss Carmina got a little too _involved_ in his life."

Mirage only smirked. "You let your jealousy get the best of you, Boswell. It's no wonder you and Mr. Pine had a falling out."

_It must have been a _nuclear _fallout, _Violet thought.

"If it wasn't for you, I would have been his number one guy," Boswell growled at Mirage. He then looked at Violet through his narrowed copper eyes. "Because I don't want to lose my job due to my big mouth, I'm electing to end this conversation. Just remember, little girl, one day this company will be _mine_."

He took a cigarette, lit it, and placed it in his mouth. He took it out and blew the smoke towards the two women in front of him.

"No smoking in the building," reminded Mirage.

"Screw off," Mick Boswell spat.

Violet sighed and began walking towards the door. "This is awful. He has no respect for me whatsoever. How am I supposed to run a company when my employees don't take me seriously?"

"That's just Boswell. He's been bitter ever since he and Mr. Pine stopped being best friends. They used to do everything together, and he thinks I ruined their relationship when I started dating Buddy," Mirage sighed. "They were always so close. Boswell didn't ever want that to end, but his efforts to get me out of the picture only made Mr. Pine distance himself from his former friend even more." She stepped into the elevator. "He still expected to be the one to get the company after Mr. Pine passed away. He was sorely mistaken."

"That's really bad," Violet murmured. "Mr. Boswell... _really _liked Buddy, didn't he?"

Mirage nodded and pressed the button to the top floor. "Probably more than you even think."

"So now what do I do? I'm not really sure where to begin. Do I have papers to look over or... or something like that?" Violet put her hand to her head and wandered over to the desk where Buddy used to sit. It felt eerie using his chair. He'd always sat in it, feet up on the desk, casually looking over papers or messing around with his high-tech computer. Chills began to creep down her spine. It was almost like she could feel his ghost watching her.

Violet looked up and around. Mirage had already left, and there was no reply to her question.

She settled down, swallowing her momentary fears. She was Violet Parr: CEO of Syncorporated; and she was going to do the best job she could.

-x-

Weeks had passed by since Violet had taken control of the company. With the help of Mirage, she had managed to keep things stable. It turned out that it was easier than she first thought to run the business. In fact, it had been practically effortless. The basic instructions for how to run everything were inside of Buddy's computer. It seemed like all upcoming events and predicted happenings all had solutions to them, right inside.

She was walking home after another day at the office. It was particularly foggy, and snow was swirling through the air. She was practically blinded by the winter weather. She rounded a corner when she stepped by an alley. She heard her name being called.

"Violet!"

Startled, she turned her head.

The thick fog was still rising and swirling through the air, but Violet could faintly make out a figure standing in the midst of it. As the figure approached, seeming to float with all of the mist surrounding it, she began to discern features. Familiar red hair, though styled ridiculously in a manner reminiscent of flames. The beam of a headlight made those bright blue eyes flash in an almost sinister way. He was dressed in a very tight outfit; black with a giant white 'S' on the front. White gloves and gauntlets, white boots, and a cape for added grandeur.

"Hello, sweetheart." His voice had been intentionally lowered in pitch to an almost ridiculous sounding supposed-to-be-sexy voice. "Did you miss me?" He raised his eyebrows, making the dark mask on his face move just a tad.

"B-Buddy?" Violet stammered in disbelief. This had to be some kind of prank, or practical joke. But it wasn't funny if it was. Who would want to upset her even more after all that she had been through? Nevertheless, she swallowed the lump in her throat and choked out, "Is that really you?"

He smirked just a little. "Who else would it be? And before you say anything, no I'm not a ghost. I just have a lot of explaining to do." His voice was back to normal, and he cleared his throat as though it had hurt to have lowered it.

She could see him clearly now, and without a doubt this was Buddy Pine – Buddy Pine dressed as a superhero, and slightly unrecognizable due to his haircut and the mask on his face – but there was no doubt that it was the eccentric businessman himself. Why he was dressed like this, what he was doing back from the grave, or what was going on was beyond her. She could only stammer.

"I can tell that this isn't going to go over well at first, but if you'll hear me out, I can explain this all to you in a way that will hopefully make sense and prevent you from running away from me... like that..." Before he had even finished speaking, Violet had bolted.

Heart pounding in her chest, and mind racing from all of the confusion, she ran away from the alleyway. She nearly ran into traffic, but turned quickly enough. Unfortunately, with her sharp turn she slid on the ice on the ground and into the side of a bench. Her ankle began to throb with pain, and she whimpered just a little.

Before she could stand up again, she felt herself being grabbed and lifted into the air. Panicking, she tried to struggle.

"Please don't struggle, Vi, I don't want to accidentally drop you," Buddy's voice whispered in a soothing tone. "That wouldn't be good for anyone."

Violet's eyes only grew wider as she started to put the pieces of the puzzle together. He _was _a supervillain. He was _kidnapping _her. For a long time she had tried not to use her powers, but this time it was an emergency. She lifted her hands, and put up a small force-field in them. It knocked into Buddy's face, making him start to fly out of control and eventually drop her.

She put up a force-field to catch herself, bouncing a little as she hit the ground. She couldn't hold it for long, though, and she let it go. She fell into the snow, energy drained out of her. She looked up and saw Buddy smack into a brick wall and fall back into the snow himself. He couldn't fly on his own, it seemed. He needed the help of technology... jet boots.

She could hear him groaning from the ground, and there was a spattering of blood on the white snow behind him. Violet swallowed and approached him slowly. It looked like he was seriously injured. But as soon as she got too close, she was shot with a bolt of blue that engulfed her. There was a beam coming from his finger, powered by the gauntlets he was wearing.

"Zero-point energy, in case you're wondering," he explained. He got up to his feet, shaky. "You didn't need to run, Violet. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm a good guy."

Violet felt completely paralyzed. She couldn't move any part of her body, except for her eyes. She looked down at him, wondering why he was doing this.

"I'm Syndrome now, I'm a superhero, just like your dad... well, almost." He growled the last part and looked to the side. "You've got to hear me out, Vi. I promise you'll like what I have to say. It has to do with the future of all superheroes!"

She wanted to shake her head, and to tell him that she just wanted to go home, or wake up, or get out of this situation any way possible.

"But first we've got to get you back to my new place," he said.

He fired up his jet boots.

"Hold on tight, this is going to be a bit of a bumpy ride."

**A/N: **_Forgive me, this chapter is a little bit shorter than the others. Holidays and all that, plus I'm in college now and that takes up a bit of time. :) _


	9. I Dream In Colour

**9**

"_If there's some confusion; tell lies, take sides."_

- I Dream In Colour by The Opposition

With the flick of a light-switch, the abandoned but refurbished former-Syncorporated warehouse was lit up in a fluorescent glow. Basking in both this light, and the light of his accomplishments, was Syndrome. With an ever-so-haughty smile, and glimmering blue eyes lit up with a joy not unlike that of a child who had just received a new plaything. He approached a woozy, tongue-tied Violet with a catlike prowl.

"What do you think?" he asked her. The word 'maniac' was practically written on his face. He was grinning, gesturing out towards his secret lair with pride. "Pretty, ain't it?"

Violet could only stare, pressing one hand to her head as she attempted to clear her thoughts. "I don't understand," she stammered after a few moments of stunned silence. "What is all of this? Buddy, how are you still alive? I went to your funeral."

He made a sort of 'tch' noise, and drooped himself over a railing. He gazed out at his beautiful technology; his computers, control panels, robots, weapons, and other assorted glowing and beeping things. "_I_ went to my funeral, Violet. You practically looked me dead-on in the eyes, and yet you still couldn't piece all of this together."

"I get it, you faked your death. Super impressive and all but... why?" Violet shakily got to her feet, using the railing as support. "You had everything you wanted and more. So why, Buddy Pine? Why throw all of that away?" Curiosity was burning in her indigo eyes.

"Don't call me Buddy!" Syndrome snapped suddenly. "I'm Syndrome now. Buddy Pine... Buddy Pine is _dead_." He stared viciously, his teeth clinched as though the very mention of his real name severely offended him.

Violet narrowed her eyes. "Something's wrong with you. Tell me what it is. I can try to help you."

He assumed a grandiose pose. "You don't understand, Violet! Listen to me... In this world of corruption, haven't the weak been calling out for a hero? I am that hero, Vi! I'm beginning a whole new generation of supers; a brand new golden age and it's all by me. I'm going to assemble the best damn team of supers around, and I will lead us into _victory_." Syndrome reached out and grabbed her by the hands. "You can join me, Violet. I need you."

She jerked away from him. Violet knew that something just wasn't right about the situation. Terrible things were suddenly becoming clear in her mind. The files about assassins, the golden age superheroes disappearing or being found dead, Buddy's suspicious and paranoid behavior...

"No!" Violet shrieked. "What have you done, you psycho?"

Syndrome stared at her as though her words were foreign. "What do you mean?"

"You... you don't even have superpowers. You're not a superhero; look at you! You're just... you're just a little boy who couldn't take a little rejection." Her fists began to clinch. "I know what you did. You had all of the superheroes from the past _killed_ just so that you could take their place. What's your big plan? Do you honestly think the government will lift the ban just because you form a union with the young superhumans you _didn't_ kill off?" She wanted him to drop dead, right there. She was so hot with fury, she felt like she had a fever.

"You simplify my plan, Violet, but it's so much more than that. This is only phase two! _Act_ two! And just wait until you see what I have planned for my grand finale." Syndrome paid no mind to all her accusations. It was like he hadn't even heard them. "But all this anger you're feeling, Violet. I can't take that. We're going to have to fix you."

She began to step backwards slowly. Her eyes scanned for an exit, but she found none. "What do you mean _fix_ me. I'm not broken." Violet continued, step by step, inching away from the insane man she once thought was her friend - perhaps even more than that.

"Well, if you weren't, I wouldn't have to fix you. But I'm afraid you're more broken than you think. I thought maybe I had earned your trust, but you never did trust me enough did you, Violet. Smart girl. Too smart. Are you scared of me?" He began advancing towards her, arms outstretched, ready to grab her.

"I am," she said firmly. "I am scared of you. I thought you were someone else. I truly wanted to believe you were good. I shouldn't have overlooked the evidence for so long. I never should have tried to justify your actions. You're insane, and you need help." Violet turned around and bolted down the stairs towards the machinery and equipment Syndrome had stored.

He called out to her, hands cupped against his face to help his projection. "Honestly, there's no way of escape! You run, I'll snag you with my zero-point energy. You may as well give up!" His blue eyes darted back and forth as he tracked her movement with his eyes. "Surrender, Violet!"

But she didn't stop. She leaped over things that were in her way, rushing to find a way out.

"You don't know when to quit, Violet! You supers never do... is it in your DNA? We could run some tests and find out!" Syndrome kicked off, his jet boots lightning up when he took his feet off the ground. He landed in front of her, reaching out and grabbing her arms. He squeezed tightly, hard enough to cause definite pain.

Violet let out a yelp, grimacing. "Let go of me! When my dad finds out about this, you are going to _get it_."

"Oh. Pathetic." Syndrome snorted. "What, can't fight your own fights? And really, you can't expect me to believe that Mr. Incredible is going to be able to track me down, get past my security, break down the door and rescue you. He's good, but he's not that good. I think you overestimate him."

She squirmed, trying to form force-fields with her hands to knock him back.

"Neat little trick you're trying to do there. That really hurt when you smacked me with one of those earlier. My head is still hurting, I'll tell you." Syndrome began to drag her towards what looked like a metal operating table. Wires hung loosely from the ceiling and there were sockets and plugs everywhere. He pushed her down, and strapped her in like a mental patient. He began to attach electrodes to her body, despite her constant struggle.

Violet spat at him. "What are you going to do?"

"Someone suddenly got feisty. You were so shy, I never expected you to actually be like this. I guess you've got a lot of your mother in you." He paused, and then began to talk to himself in a hushed tone. "Heh... Elastigirl. Still can't believe he married _Elastigirl_."

"I asked a question," she growled. She tugged against the straps, but she wasn't nearly strong enough to break them.

"Sorry about that, I got distracted. Right, what am I going to do? Good question, because I forgot momentarily myself. Now I remember. I'm going to brainwash you." He walked over to the control panel. "I didn't do a good enough job of winning you over. I thought you would join me immediately. Looks like I was wrong. How sad for me. I didn't want to have to do this. I thought you would be more... accepting."

Violet stared in disbelief. "How could you possibly think that? Let me go this instant."

"Make me," he challenged, briefly looking back at her with an intense look in his eyes.

She started to form a force-field around her in an effort to slice through the wires that were connected to her. Syndrome caught a glimpse of what she was doing and practically leaped on top of her. He reached underneath the metal table and pulled out a syringe filled with an ominous green liquid. He stabbed her straight into the stomach with it. Her eyes rolled back and she fell unconscious.

"You don't play fair. No powers, Parr."

Syndrome chuckled to himself and pressed the start button on his machine. With all the technological grace and typing skills of a computer genius, he started up his brainwashing program. Violet was limp, mouth hanging open, powerless to stop herself from falling victim to Syndrome's evil plans.

-x-

It had been a couple of weeks since Robert Parr had last heard from his daughter. Ever since she had taken control of the late Buddy Pine's company, she had been too busy to even call her parents up. He stared at the phone, wondering for a moment if it would ring and Violet would be on the other end to tell him of her success.

He turned towards the television, noticing that the news was on. He didn't give it a second thought until he heard something:

"Police are still looking into the disappearance of Violet Parr. Suspects include the disgruntled vice president of the company, Mick Boswell, who was overheard making disturbing threats and inappropriate comments directed towards her. He also disappeared around the time that..."

Robert's eyes shot open. He barely heard any of the rest of the reporter's comments.

"Helen!" he yelled, rushing to the kitchen where he wife was cleaning the last of the dishes from dinner.

She turned around, noticing the worry in his eyes. "Bob, what's wrong?"

"It's Violet, something's happened to her. Something bad. I have to go and look for her," he said urgently. "She could be in real danger. Give me the phone, I'm going to call Lucius. He'll help me track her down."

Helen handed her husband the phone quickly. He dialed the number. "What happened? What's happened to Violet?" she asked urgently. "Bob, tell me!"

"I think she's been kidnapped, by one of the employees at her work place. They say he went missing around the same time that - Hello, Lucius? You've got to get over here. I have no time to explain, just hurry and I'll tell you when I get here." Bob slammed down the phone and went to grab his jacket.

"Let me come with you," Helen asked. "If Violet's in danger, I want to help."

"Please stay with Jack-Jack," Bob pleaded. He looked into his wife's eyes. "I couldn't imagine losing both you and Violet. Please stay where I know that you're safe. Someone has to watch out for our son. Call Dash and tell him to come over here as well. You all need to stay safe. I think something very terrible is going on. Might even be a supervillain..."

Helen shook her head. "The government can deal with supervillains!"

"The government hasn't done enough to get my little girl back. That's all that matters for now - Violet's safety." Determination was shining in Bob's eyes.

His wife nodded slowly, almost reluctantly. "I understand. Stay safe. But if you need my help, Bob, I will be there for you in a heartbeat."

"I don't doubt it."

Robert Parr left the house, feeling the rush of heroism in his brain, along with dread for the well-being of his daughter. He saw Lucius, also known as Frozone back in the Golden Age. They ducked into the car, concern showing plainly on both of their faces.

"What's wrong, Bob? You gonna tell me what's going on?" asked Lucius.

Bob put his head in his hands. "Violet's gone. No one knows what's happened to her, but I have to get her back. I don't know, I don't know... where to begin."

"Calm down, we're going to figure this out, and we're going to get her back safe and sound, got it?" Lucius said. "Do you happen to know who she was with last?"

He took a deep breath, trying to remember any important details that could lead them to his daughter. "She lived in an apartment with her roommate, whose named was... Millie or Mimi or something like that. She worked for Buddy Pine's company -"

Lucius put up his hands, signalling for him to stop. "Wait, that name sounds familiar... didn't you tell me about him? The kid who basically unintentionally ruined the lives of every Golden Age super out there?"

"That's the one. But he's not a suspect. He's been dead for weeks," Bob replied. "It was a big deal, he actually gave my daughter the entire company, essentially. I mean, I'm convinced it's still being run by proxy by the other people there... like that... that Boswell. He's gone missing too, I heard. We need to look into that. He could be our culprit. They said he was supposed to be next in line for company presidency, and was bitter about the sudden change of plans."

"Sounds like a good idea. This could all just be a huge case of a corrupt corporation. Nothing big like a supervillian, just some suits with bad intentions," Lucius said.

Bob pushed down on the accelerator, driving slowly through the town. "We're going to have to go to New York. That's where they all were, and that's where we're going to find something out about this."

Lucius nodded, crackling his knuckles and stretching his arms out in front of them. "Got it. New York it is. I'd yell road trip, but this probably isn't the time for that - Violet missing; all that..."

-x-

"Wakey wakey, Violet," Syndrome cooed, his voice sickly sweet but harboring just enough malice to fully express his insanity. She opened her eyes, staring up at him with confusion. She couldn't remember anything, why she was here, or what was going on. No revelation of mad plans stuck with her.

She groaned. "What's going on?"

"How's my favorite super? Well... second favorite super... there's your dad, I'm his number one fan," he mused. "I think you'll find I've made a few modifications - no - improvements to you. We won't have any escaping incidents again, no we won't."

"Of course not! Why would I leave you?" she exclaimed, as though the thought was completely ridiculous to her.

Syndrome grinned. "It worked, it worked, it worked. I didn't think it would but it did. Talk about your case of Stockholm Syndrome. Well... induced by me, anyway. This will keep you brainwashed, tip top, and working for me. Anyone, namely the government, asks questions, and you can just tell them 'oh hey, it's fine, we're cool here.' They'll believe you, because your Incredible's daughter."

He paused. "And you won't even care that I'm telling you all this either. It's like I've got free monologuing privileges, and no one can use it against me."

"What are you talking about? You're just being weird again, aren't you Syndrome? I'm hungry, may I please have something to eat?" Violet said. Her mind was essentially blank, and her free will had been stripped away along with anything else that could potentially lead her to revolt against Syndrome.

With lips contorting into a sneering grin of manic pleasure, he nodded. "Sure, sweetheart. I'll go get you something to eat."

Two toned cape swishing behind him, he turned on his heels and pulled open a nearby cooling case. Panning over different edible products, he finally selected one - a premade lunch wrapped in plastic, consisting of a juice box, thin wheat crackers, cheddar cheese, and turkey lunch meat. He grabbed it, and kicked the door to the cooler shut with one white-booted foot. He presented it to Violet, and she eagerly took it from his hands.

Contently eating, still completely unaware of anything suspicious, Violet sat in the corner. Syndrome had outfitted her with her own sort of a superhero uniform, though it was tailored to be more of a sidekick outfit, very understated. It was somewhat revealing, with a low cut leotard, black in color, and deep, glistening polyester gloves and leather boots that came up to her thighs. Nothing too flashy, just somewhat sultry. She had a sort of cape of her own, though it was far shorter than Syndrome's, going only down to her mid-back, and likewise colored with black on the back and metallic purple on the inside.

Syndrome couldn't help but be awed at his plans coming together. Almost everything he ever wanted was in place. Next step could be saving the world, though at the moment there wasn't really anything to save the world from except communists and vague threats of nuclear war. Boring. He also still needed to gather a few more supers, naive or easily brainwashed young rebels who were eager to use their powers instead of being stifled by the government.

Soon, Mr. Incredible was going to see how amazing, brilliant, genius, heroic, helpful, outstanding (the list of adjectives running through Syndrome's head was mounting to impressive, with the compilation of a thesaurus or dictionary), et cetera. And promptly after he witnessed all of this, he was going to die a gruesome, painful, well-deserved, violent, bloody, gore filled (again, he summoned every macabre word he could think of to mind) death.

His sanity slippage had certainly reached some kind of all time low, rendering him unable to think anything but thoughts of revenge, grandeur, delusion, and narcissism. His mind had given in to every bipolar tendency, every psychopathic whim, and had completely let go of the suave New York businessman, CEO of Syncorporated, Mr. 'Perfect', Buddy Pine. No doubts could be left that that man was effectively dead, gone with whatever mysterious illness had 'claimed his life', and buried in the ground with a sinister alter-ego attending the funeral in sunglasses and a fedora, tossing a commemorative red rose into the grave.

The worst, or possibly best part, was that Syndrome was enjoying every second of it. He had never felt so alive, and so able to just give into what had been building up inside of him for years - that is, completely disregard for human life, the willingness to do anything to achieve his goals, and the freedom to flamboyantly strut his lunacy without having to watch his step because he had a reputation to keep. Well, it would be that way for now, until he had to keep up public images as a superhero, but with all the power he had he figured he could probably get away with being a maniac as long as he saved people.

"I'm done," Violet said. Her voice snapped Syndrome out of thought and (partially) back into reality. He took the plastic tray from her and tossed it backwards over his shoulder, letting it hit the wall and fall skillfully into an incinerating trash disposal container. A small, warm burst of flame consumed the rubbish, and then faded.

He sat down on the ground in front of her. "Hey, Violet. I'll bet your daddy's worried about you. Don't you think? I'll bet he'll be here any day looking for you, and I'll be ready." He grinned.

"Why would he do that? I'm fine here, and safe," she replied, still maintaining her ignorance in her dilemma. "Should I call him and tell him that I'm alright?"

"No, it's totally cool," Syndrome said with a dismissive hand wave. He was almost constantly moving his hands around when he spoke; one of those people who 'talks with their hands'. "In fact, it'd probably be a bad idea, because he'd probably just want you to go home, and you want to stay here with me. Don't you?"

Violet nodded enthusiastically. "Of course! I couldn't imagine living life without you!"

Syndrome was pleased with the good job he had done brainwashing her. Just a few seconds with some tech toys and she was good to go. Arrogantly enough, he had made himself the center of her universe. He just couldn't tell if he did it because it was a good idea, and would keep her here with him as bait for Mr. Incredible, or if he still had that pesky crush on her that he wished would go away.

"Far out. It's settled, and there will be no calling of parental units," he said. "If he comes here, he comes here." Syndrome was certain that Mr. Incredible would come. He wouldn't just ignore the fact that his only daughter was missing. In fact, he was probably tearing his hair out, and possibly even shedding a few tears over the whole thing.

As for Mick Boswell, who Syndrome had kidnapped him as a red herring, so that everyone would think that he was the one who took Violet, because he went missing around the same time. Meanwhile, back at Syncorporate, Mirage was running the show - and doing a very good job of it. Mick was sitting on the far-side of the main room in the hideout, arms tied behind his back with futuristic energy-binding handcuffs, and a gag placed neatly in his mouth to keep him from making too much annoying noise.

At that moment, Boswell let out a muffled screech. Syndrome turned around and waved at him. _Bastard probably enjoys being tied up like that,_ he thought. _I swear on all that is good and holy he always had the hots for me._ He smirked at the company vice president only tried to scream again, gagging just a little. _And I mean, he isn't all that bad looking, and I can admit that I may have thought of..._

"Knowing my dad, he probably will, but we'll just assure him that everything's cool," Violet said with a saccharine sweet smile.

Syndrome felt hot under the collar, slightly sighing in relief of having been distracted from increasingly strange thoughts by Violet Parr. "So... since you're going to be on my superhero team, we need to give you a name."

"I know it might seem silly," Violet said, starting to blush just a tad, "but I've actually already kind of given this some thought. I always thought that a good name for me would be Invisigirl, if that's not too cliche... or you know, taken."

"Well, if it was or is taken, I can assure you it isn't or won't be any longer," Syndrome smiled, with murder on his mind. "I do like it, though, it's a good name - Invisigirl." What he liked most about it was that it sounded very much like a sidekick name, and wasn't anything impressive that would potentially upstage his own chosen name. He would have to regulate the names of anyone else who joined his new team of supers as well, he figured.

Violet looked happy enough with this decision, taking in a deep breath, still smiling all along as though she didn't have a care in the world. Syndrome stifled a noise of disgust. He had only meant to make her loyal, not make her an idiot. He hoped he hadn't done something wrong, or irreversible anyway. He wondered if he'd somehow given her a lobotomy instead of just messing around with some memories and emotions.

"Invisigirl it is, then," she murmured.

-x-

The third place Robert Parr and Lucius Best had gone to was the apartment of Mick Boswell. After doing enough asking around and detective work to potentially make every criminal who caught word of it head for the hills, they had finally decided to check out the abode of the allegedly corrupt, possibly insane, and potential kidnapper vice president of Syncorporated. He was their first suspicion to begin with, but in order to find out where he lived, and if they were on the right track, they had done a lot of 'interviews'.

It was almost thrilling for the both of them to be back on the job, even if there was something priceless at stake, which was Bob's daughter, Violet Parr. Every minute that went by was another minute she was in jeopardy, possibly hurt, and undoubtedly scared somewhere with an insane, jealous coworker. Little did they know, they were investigating the _wrong_ insane, jealous coworker. But to them and the world, Buddy Pine was dead, so what would be the point in searching for a dead man who was buried in Trinity Church Cemetery, Manhattan, New York.

The door fell down, pushing crime scene tape along with it. The police had already gone through, and neither Robert Parr or Lucius Best asked for permission to go in, but they felt that they weren't going to be caught.

The apartment itself was small, but luxurious nevertheless, purchased with the high salary of a man who worked at the world's third largest company. It was a very open floor plan, with spill-proof plastic covers over the sofa, and a moderate sized television of the latest make and model. They passed by, examining for anything that the police and investigators might have overlooked.

There was a strange looking spot on the ground, dark and red, obviously blood. Whose blood it was, neither of them could tell. A sample had probably been taken and shipped off to a laboratory, and the police were probably awaiting results. Neither of them had current access to anything that could help them determine whose blood it was, so they ignored it, and they slipped past into the bedroom.

"What the hell is this?" Lucius said, gawking as they walked in. "Seems the fanboy has a fanboy."

Inside the bedroom was what could only be described as a shrine of sorts, all dedicated to Buddy Pine. His pictures were plastered everywhere, with the last remains of melted candles put out in vigil or mourning. It was very disturbing, and quite unexpected for someone who was supposed to hate Buddy Pine with every fiber of his being. Instead, there were signs of the deepest kind of limerence, adoration, and mourning.

"Well, if anyone ever needed proof that this guy was crazy, it's all right here," Bob said, walking around the room and scanning for any kind of information. "Wait a minute..." He paused, picking up a strange piece of broken metal off of the ground. It wasn't much to look at, not very impressive, and not anything that seemed to be evidence. But when he took it in his hands, it sprung open, revealing some kind of note inside. "Hey, take a look at this."

Lucius looked over, reading the note that had come out of the strange bit of technology.

It read, in hastily scrawled letters, smeared with droplets of blood:

HE'S NOT DEAD. PLEASE HELP ME. HE'S GOING TO KILL ME.  
- _MICK BOSWELL_

The signature was signed in full, cursive, flowing script despite the panic of the first few sentences.

Something inside, some kind of super's intuition, told Bob that it wasn't Mick Boswell who had kidnapped Violet... there was something far more sinister at play.

**A/N:** _Just a slight warning, though the story probably won't go over the rating of T (or PG-13 equivalent), it does get rather dark from here on out and the themes will be a little more mature than previously. There will also probably be a good deal of dark humor. I don't wish to scare anyone away, because it really won't be all that bad, but it will be a little bit more mature than before (ambiguous morals, insanity, et cetera)._


	10. Time Will Crawl

**10**

"_You were a talented child. You came to live in our town. We never bothered to scream when your mask went on._"

- Time Will Crawl by David Bowie

"I shouldn't really be speaking to anyone. My lawyer advised against it."

Camilla kept her cool, collected voice, even with two threatening men leering at her. They were poised threateningly, but in contrast she was very much relaxed. She kept her fingertips touching, and looked them dead in the eyes.

Her statement did not sit well with Robert Parr. "My daughter is in danger. I know you know something about what's going on."

"I've answered all the questions the authorities have asked me." She picked up her cup of coffee from the edge of her desk and took a sip. Her relaxation only served to irritate her interrogators.

"Who are you protecting?" asked Bob. "Mick Boswell? No, that doesn't sit right well me. I've asked around, and he had a poor reputation around here. No, you're hiding a much bigger secret, aren't you Miss del Sol?"

"I've heard the corporate conspiracy drivel many times, Mr. Parr," she refuted. With her cat-like gaze always staring them down, she did her very best not to reveal any sign of weakness. "I dislike Mick Boswell as much as the next person. If I knew anything about what he'd done with Miss Violet, I would have said so. I'm just as concerned for the safety of our CEO. There are real criminals out there, Mr. Parr. You're better off looking for Boswell than wasting your time trying to get information out of me."

Lucius narrowed his eyes. "How do we know you're not involved somehow? What if you're working with Boswell. Since Violet's gone, you're the acting CEO. What if this has something to do with a power grab?"

"Corporate conspiracy drivel," Camilla repeated, but harsher this time. "Power grabs are done in far more subtle manner. How do you know that Mick Boswell isn't in just as much danger as your daughter is?"

"About that..." Bob reached into his coat pocket, and produced the bloodied piece of paper they'd found in Mick Boswell's apartment. He set it down on the desk in front of Camilla. She leaned in and stared at it coldly, with scrutiny.

"What is this?" she asked.

He knew that they'd have to admit to breaking in to a crime scene, but nothing was going to stop him from gathering information about Violet's potential whereabouts. "We found this at Boswell's place."

For a moment, he thought he saw a flash of fear on Camilla's face. This one act of emotional betrayal gave Bob a chance to react and grab the upper hand. "So you _do_ know something," he growled. He slammed his hands down on the desk, though he was careful not to smash it. "Tell me what you know."

"You shouldn't have been in his apartment. I might have to call the authorities," Camilla stated flatly. She had almost immediately regained her cold composure.

Anger and frustration arose in Bob. He lunged forward and grabbed Camilla by the throat. He could hear Lucius protesting, but he ignored it. "You tell me. You tell me right now. My daughter could be hurt, or _dying_ right now. She could be being tortured by some psychopath."

Camilla choked, and she put her hands out. "_Stop._ I'll tell you..."

He let her drop to the ground.

"Damn, now we're going to be felons. You just attacked the acting CEO of a_ huge_ corporation, Bob!" Lucius yelled.

"It's alright, I understand. I've tried to hide this for a while. I was scared. But you... you're_ incredible_," she let the word slide out with hinting. She knew who he was. If she was going to change sides, she wanted to be the side of the most powerful. It was between two goodhearted supers and her psycho ex-boyfriend... she chose the former. "In exchange for what I have to say, however, you must promise me complete protection."

"Anything, just tell me what you know!" demanded Bob.

She sighed, rubbing her throat. "It's Buddy Pine."

"What?" Bob knew this couldn't be right. Everyone knew that Buddy Pine was dead.

"The bastard faked his death. He's got some huge plan up his sleeve. He wants to bring back the golden age of superheroes, but he's killing off all the old ones first. Your friends... maybe even your family members... if they died mysteriously, it was because of him, I can almost guarantee that." She almost hesitated while she was speaking. She was still slightly unsure about betraying him, but it was too late to turn back now. "He has Violet, and I'm sure he has Boswell also. He's trying to cover his tracks by tying Boswell to the kidnapping. They go missing at the same time... you understand."

Camilla cringed as Bob turned around with rage and knocked many priceless pieces of art in the office to the ground. "He's going to pay for this. Tell me where he is."

"I'm not_ sure_," she said, and this was the truth. He had been very vague with his location. "However, before you press me for more information - which I assure you, I don't know - I will tell you that it's all on his computer."

She gestured towards the blank holographic screen that was projected in the middle of the room. All it read was, 'type password'. "I don't know the code," she mentioned. "Good luck getting in. I have a board meeting to go to. I trust that our deal will be kept, and that you will not let any harm befall me."

"You have my word," Bob said through his teeth.

Camilla gave him a curt nod and left the room with a dignified walk.

"I don't know anything about hacking into computers," Lucius grunted. "What are we going to do?"

"Look around. Look through the filing cabinets. Find some word or words that stand out!" commanded Bob Parr. He began to practically tear the office apart, looking for some hint as to what the password could be.

"Sure we can't just use the 'forgot password' tool and see if we can guess the answer to his secret question?" joked Lucius. He walked over to one of the cabinets and began scanning through the papers. "This is all business shit. Nothing important."

Bob shook his head. "Keep looking. We've got to keep looking."

"I gotcha. Time is of the essence." Lucius continued to speed-read through the files. "Wait a moment, I think I've got something. Lots of these are old checks made out to 'Project Kronos'. Think that's got anything to do with it?"

"I'll take anything. Let's type it in." Bob rushed to the computer. His fingers flew across the keys as he typed in 'Project Kronos'. Disappointment hit him like a wave when it showed up as incorrect.

Lucius stepped in front of him. "Wait a minute, before you get all discouraged, let's just type in the second word."

_Kronos._

The computer sprung to life displaying charts, and blueprints, and all of Buddy Pine's dirty little secrets. "Bingo!" yelled Bob Parr with triumph. "We've got the son of a bitch now."

He clicked through until he found the location of the place where Buddy Pine would most likely be hiding out. It was on the edge of town, an old company warehouse. It had been renovated into a supervillain's dream lair. It had a spanning, enormous underground bunker beneath it.

Bob Parr was astonished. "How could he do all this without being noticed?"

"Rich people get away with a lot. He probably just paid people off to keep quiet," Lucius suggested.

"Print it out, we'll need these blueprints," Bob said. He waited by the printer, and grabbed the map. "Let's go."

"We've still got it," laughed Lucius.

Bob nodded and echoed, "We've still got it!"

-x-

Syndrome sat in his desk chair, sleeping soundly as the glow from his surveillance monitors washed over him. His head was buried in his arm. He sniffed every once in a while, and snored lightly.

An alarm sounded, waking him up. He opened his eyes drowsily and swallowed. He looked up at the monitors. It took him a moment to spot anything, but that's when he saw _him_.

The strangest mixture of dread and excitement washed over him. "He's going to kill me. Oh my god, wait until he sees me. Wait... no... I have to maintain... no, how did he get here?" Syndrome was flipping between delight and panic. "How much does he know? Play it cool, buddy-boy."

He rushed down the stairs towards Violet. "Violet, baby!" he exclaimed.

"Yes?" she said.

"Big daddy's here. You be on your best behavior. Nothing is out of place, not a thing. This is a one hundred percent innocent operation, got it, hot stuff?" he exclaimed. He was flailing his arms and trying to cover the more conspicuous pieces of machinery. He even threw a tarp over Mick Boswell, who was crying himself to sleep.

Syndrome kicked him in the side. "Shut up, Mickey," he snapped. "I can't have you sobbing and ruining everything." He grabbed a needle full of tranquilizer from a nearby medical tray. He bent down and stabbed the company vice president with it, driving it in with sadistic delight until Mick Boswell collapsed unconscious.

Violet just watched through vacant eyes.

"I really hope you don't act like this when your father gets here," he sighed, shaking his head. "I can't believe I broke you. Try to be normal, alright?"

"Anything for you!" she exclaimed.

He rolled his eyes. "Right... Why don't you just only agree with everything I say?"

Violet smiled. "Okay."

"Good girl."

Syndrome turned, his cape swishing behind him. He was practically skipping down the hall, but all the while he was trying to remain calm enough to function in case of an emergency. He was the one with the science. He could triumph in any fight, over any super. He repeated this mantra to himself.

Double doors slid open in front of him, and he passed through them before freezing in place. Two figures were approaching.

When he saw his idol, his hero, walk down the corridor; his eyes lit up with the joy of a kid on Christmas.

"Mr. Incredible!" he yelled, practically running towards him.

"Buddy." Mr. Incredible's voice was flat, disapproving, and harsh. It was taking all his willpower to keep from reaching out and snapping Syndrome in half. First of all, he had to confirm what Mirage had said.

"Yes, it's me! Look at all of this? I'm a superhero, just like I told you!" Syndrome stretched out his arms, waving them at all of his technological inventions and the whole of his hideout.

Mr. Incredible looked at Frozone, anxiety in his eyes. His gaze switched back to Syndrome. "You haven't changed a bit."

"I know!" he exclaimed. "Mr. I., what are you doing here of all places?"

"Where's Violet?" growled the superhero.

"Oh... Violet... Huh, I was kind of hoping you had come here for me, but of course you came here for Violet." He clenched his fists and turned away, the expression on his face concealed, but judging by how his body had tensed it was probably one of frustration.

"Listen, Buddy," said Mr. Incredible. "I'm not going to play games with you. You show me Violet, alive and unharmed, and I'll consider listening to any side of the story you might have to this."

Syndrome smiled. "I wouldn't ever do a thing to hurt her. We're dating."

_Crack!_

He buckled over when Mr. Incredible's fist made contact with his jaw. He could tell that the punch had restraint. Mr. Incredible could have killed him in one blow if he wanted to. This was just a warning. Pained tears were welling up in Syndrome's eyes, and he winced and struggled to get to his feet.

_Punching me in the face must run in their family,_ he thought.

"Take me to Violet," the superhero commanded.

Syndrome slurred, still reeling from the blow, "Right away."

Running over his plan and his next moves in his mind, he thought,_ I'm going to ace this test with flying colors. I'll just make up an amazingly convincing lie. I'm so very good at that._

He led them both down his halls, until he reached the center point. Violet was standing there. She still looked out of sorts, and slightly out of her mind. Mr. Incredible rushed towards his daughter and grabbed her, picking him up in his strong arms.

"Violet, you're alright!" he cried out in relief.

"Thank god," Frozone breathed.

Syndrome tilted his head and smiled. "Happy family reunion." He noticed Mick Boswell's foot sticking out from under the tarp and he casually wandered over to kick cover it up. "I wouldn't hurt anyone. That's not my style. All I am is the former CEO of Syncorporated, but I've taken my life in a new direction."

"You faked your death... so that you could play superhero?" Frozone asked, shaking his head. "You're messed up."

"This doesn't explain what happened to Mick Boswell. Where is he?" demanded Mr. Incredible. "He left us a note, and it's a note that points to your involvement in all this. But that's the least of the questions I'm going to ask you. Your acting CEO provided us with a lot of information, and your computer records." He hadn't exactly looked in the computer records to confirm what Mirage had said, but he hadn't had the time.

Syndrome tensed up, "Mirage said what?" he choked.

"Who's Mirage?" Mr. Incredible asked suspiciously.

"Oh no... I mean... Camilla," he sighed. Putting one hand on his head, he paused for a moment, thinking. "I never thought she'd pull a stunt like this, just to take over the company. I told her that I'd be gone for a while and to run the company in my absence. Violet wanted to come along with me, so I let her."

Mr. Incredible seemed intrigued, but not terribly convinced yet.

"So I left her in charge of the company. She must have offed Mick Boswell and tried to pin it on me. Worse yet, now she's trying to get me in trouble so that I can't ever come back to work at my company. She doesn't want anyone pulling the strings, she wants to run the show. Don't you see?" Syndrome explained.

Frozone sniffed. "Right, more of this corporate conspiracy stuff now. She told us this was all bullshit."

"Right, because that is_ exactly_ what she would say," Syndrome pointed out, stressing his words.

"It's all true."

The three of them turned to see Violet standing there. Syndrome seemed slightly surprised for a moment, before he remembered the orders that he had given her. He nodded in agreement. "Violet knows. She knows everything, give or take."

Violet nodded. "What he's saying is true. Anything you've heard, it's just Camilla del Sol's plan to take over the company. She's got to bring down anyone else could potentially get in her way before she can do so. It's the darker side of the politics pertaining to multibillion dollar companies."

_Wow, she's being articulate for someone I might have lobotomized by accident,_ Syndrome thought. He knew that Mr. Incredible would listen to his daughter. Once he knew that everything checked out here, and the very moment he let down his guard... Syndrome had a deadly surprise awaiting him, and his friend, too. _Ugh, but I've got to kill Mirage now, too. She should have kept her mouth shut._

"So you _were_ telling the truth," said Mr. Incredible, still eyeing Syndrome as though he thought he was still going to jump him at any second.

"Of course I was. Camilla is like... ninety percent evil, ten percent hottie," Syndrome exclaimed. "Sometimes vice versa..."

"_This_ is who your daughter decided to date?" Frozone said with disapproval.

Mr. Incredible shrugged. "She's an adult. She can date whomever she wants." He looked Syndrome straight in the eyes. "Even a lunatic businessman who thinks he's a superhero. Don't think you're going to get off scott free with this craziness. You know that superheroes are banned. I'm going have to tell the NSA about you."

_You won't make it out of here to tell the NSA about a damn thing,_ Syndrome thought. But he just smiled. "I perfectly understand, in fact I was going to check it out with them, myself. Hey, I know supers are banned, but that's got to end somewhere." _It's going to end when I show them how much they need heroes; especially me._

"We'll be back then, later, with the proper authorities," Mr. Incredible said. "In the meantime, I expect you'll take good care of Violet."

"You have my word, Mr. Incredible," Syndrome said, grinning.

As they walked away, Syndrome could hear Frozone mutter: "I don't trust him."

"Rightfully so," the supervillain chuckled to himself.

With the push of a remote button, he could send out dozens upon dozens of killer robots to attack Mr. Incredible. With all that out of the way, his revenge plot, and one very important detail of his master plan would completed.

He could barely contain his manic glee. He flipped open a panel on one of his utility gauntlets. His fingers tapped the buttons on the keypad. "Goodbye, Mr. I," he chortled to himself.

_We could have been great together._

-x-

"There must be something else going on here. Camilla del Sol said that Buddy killed off the superheroes. However, Violet claims that he has nothing to do with anything... Camilla del Sol has nothing to gain from killing them, but Buddy Pine - he clearly does," Bob Parr said, halfway thinking aloud and halfway talking to Lucius.

Lucius frowned. "You think maybe Violet just doesn't know about that?"

"That could be. I don't trust him for a second. Pine's a crazy son of a bitch. I think he should be in an institute," snarled Bob.

With a nod of agreement, Lucius spoke, "If we can figure out if he did it or not, we can see that it happens - he'll be in an institute for criminally insane in no time."

"If it turns out he did it, it might take an army to restrain me from killing him."

He paused. Bob Parr thought for just a moment that he heard something. It was almost a shuffling or scuttling noise. He looked around. "Did you hear that?" he asked.

"Hear what?" asked Lucius, looking around. "I don't have that super-duper-hearing-sense that you have."

Worriedly, Bob assumed a fighting stance. "Something's coming this way, be ready to fight."

Lucius opened the palm of his head and blew a wave of snowflakes into the corridor. "I'm_ always_ ready."

The automatic doors slammed in the hall, trapping them inside a small section of it. Out of the ceiling popped many little round bots, all beginning to fire their lasers. It was all the two ex-superheroes could do to prevent from being shot. In such close quarters there was nowhere to hide, and nowhere to run.

Bob reached forward and smashed several of the robots. He was almost certain he was gaining the upper hand when he heard a voice come from an overheard speaker.

"_Go ahead. Break them. I've got hundreds. Even if I can't kill you with these, I have a thousand other ways for you to die, Mr. Incredible. Am I good enough for you now? I'm so much stronger than I was before, and I have you to thank for that in a way._"

"Goddammit, he's monologuing!" gasped Lucius in exasperation as he use his ice powers to freeze the bots in place so that Bob could smash them.

_"I mean, if it wasn't for you, where would I have got all my ambition? Now I'm going to lead in another golden age of superheroes. That means out with the old and in with the new. I had many, many supers to get out of the way. Now I can just brainwash all the young, impressionable ones who are just discovering their powers. I'll be a godsend to them, and they'll worship me. Everyone will worship me. I'm super without superpowers, Mr. Incredible, and I believe that is more of an accomplishment than having them._"

"What is he _on_ about?" Bob said, initially. Though, when Buddy mentioned the fact that he had been the one to murder so many of the older superheroes, rage began coursing through him. "No!"

He began smashing the robots even faster than he had before. Lucius was feeling the same rage. These were the people they had worked with side by side, and their friends. Now most of them were dead, but there were still more they knew who could be next if Buddy Pine wasn't stopped immediately.

"_I am Syndrome; and I'm your worst nightmare._"

The only thing that Bob could think, just for a moment was,_ I did this. This is my fault. They would all be alive if it wasn't for me._ He created this monster, and now he was going to have to set things right.

With all his strength, he rushed to one of the doors and broke through it. He heard a bewildered, "_Huh!_" come through the intercom. It was followed shortly by, "_Oh shit..._"

Another wave of robots was coming, but Bob knew he needed to head back into the main room. He could then find wherever Buddy Pine was hiding out, and make sure that he was never able to harm another person. It was going to take one of two things... finding him and taking him into custody, or if worse came to worse, killing him.

He had to admit he almost felt a rush from all of this, no matter how much it pained him.

He almost felt like Mr. Incredible again.

-x-

"Ahh!"

Syndrome came running into the main room with his hands in the air, trying to salvage what he could of what he had. "Come on, we're getting out of here. I've got to get to my private island. This isn't going to work for the time being!" he shouted.

An army of small robots was helping him move things onto his jets that he had lined up in a row. After making sure that everything was in check, he rushed to go find Violet.

He overestimated how much his gloating was going to make Mr. Incredible angry. _Those doors... even with his super strength he shouldn't have been able to open them! I reinforced them with everything I could think of!_

Violet was sitting down by some of the medical science equipment Syndrome had set out. One of the robots grabbed her chair from beneath her, letting her fall to the floor. He reached down and grabbed her by the hand.

"Hey, we're getting out of here. I miscalculated some things or something," he muttered. "Come on, to the plane."

He let go of her hand and kept walking. He heard a sudden loud thud, and noticed that as the robots were rushing to clear things out, they had accidentally knocked over a pile of crates... directly on to Violet.

Slightly horrified, Syndrome ran towards her. She was laying there, with no visible cuts or bruises, but unconscious. He picked her up. "Nothing is going right today," he grumbled. "Please don't be dead or anything."

He put one of his gloved hands on her forehead. He then touched her cheek. "Wake up, sleeping beauty," he sighed. He pushed back some of her hair and noticed that she actually did have a very nasty bruise on her head. "At least nothing's broken... as far as I can tell... I'm a scientist, not a doctor."

Syndrome let out a long sigh as he carried her to the plane. He was almost surprised about how concerned he was for her safety. He didn't think he cared that much. He climbed into his jet and set her down gently. "You really need to wake up soon. You don't need more brain damage."

He climbed into the pilot's seat. He could see Mr. Incredible and Frozone approaching quickly. He turned on the engine, and it started up somewhat quietly, but powerfully. He grabbed the radio transmitter and tuned it to his intercom.

"Maybe I didn't get you this time, but I'll get you next time, Mr. Incredible... next time!" he exclaimed with a cackle. _I have always wanted to say that._

The ceiling opened up, and his jet hovered like an alien spacecraft momentarily before he took off into the sky at mach three.

Mr. Incredible and Frozone arrived just in time to hear his message, and watch him take off.

"He's got Violet!" Mr. Incredible shouted, looking up at the sky with frustration and parental fear. "That's it, we can't do this on our own. We've got to go to the NSA, they're the only ones who can help us."

Frozone nodded. "Agreed. We're lucky to be alive right now. Come on, it's time to pay them a visit."

But a sudden announcement rang out in a robotic voice. _"Warehouse will auto-destruct in thirty seconds."_

Mr. Incredible turned to Frozone in panic. "Run!"

**A/N: **_I apologize for being the worst updater in fanfiction history. It should not take months for me to write these chapters considering the fact that I usually write them in about two days give or take. College is really getting in the way, but again I apologize._


End file.
